Do No Harm
by Cowoline
Summary: Mari Hawke is a malicious power hungry mage who will stop at nothing to achieve an end. One day her lust for power makes her perform a ritual that nearly kills her. When she awakes she has no memory of who she is. The tormented soul is forced to make penance for crimes she can no longer recall committing. F!Hawke/Anders (Rival & friend romance). Bioware owns the world & characters.
1. Chapter 1 Queen of Horrors

**Queen of Horrors**

For Anders, the stench was unbearable. And that unsavoury awareness, coming from a man who spent longer periods of time in the Deep Roads than most, was saying something. The stench rivalled even that of the lair of a broodmother, the kind who was too large to be moved and lived in her own filth, taint and waste. Anders even found himself gagging at the mere thought of it. As if living near the sewers in Darktown wasn't bad enough, now he was traipsing through them, in tow like a dog, and orders were given pretty much the same way. And like a dog he followed. Like a templar slave and a warden recruit, he followed her. Sometimes he wondered why he did it. No... he **constantly** wondered why. He wished he could say that she had blackmailed him, but the truth was much more pathetic. He hoped he could change her. If he could convince her that his cause was just, he could convince anyone.

He looked at the fearless leader before them. "Deranged leader is more like," his mind quipped. She had midnight black hair that was short and crudely cut, pale skin that made her look almost sick, piercing blue eyes with pupils that never dilated and never held any form of emotion. She was poorly nourished, making her body thin and unshaped. To top all of this off, she had a red tattoo on her face that looked like blood spatter, and always wore armour with metal spikes which covered every part of her. The way she carried herself, with hasty and angry movements, was vaguely similar to his own, when he lost himself to Justice. Or perhaps a ghoul. She looked as fierce and sinister as one. And Maker, he **hated** her!

Not for the way she looked of course, but for her personality. She was a mage, and not just any mage. She was a blood mage, the daughter of an apostate, who had been shielded and never seen the inside of a circle. But this mage, this Mari Hawke, had turned on her own kind and delivered them to the templars, without a hint of remorse or sympathy for the lives she had ruined. He wished he could say that she did it because she believed it to be right. He wished he could say that it was because some mage abused her, or that she simply was against blood magic. He had once hoped it was because she had somehow twisted her mind to believe it was the right thing to do. That she honestly believed she was protecting those around her. Anything that could in some sense justify her actions, no matter how much he might disagree with them. But in her, there was no such justice. She turned over her fellow mages for one reason only; **Power!** He groaned inside himself, with disgust. By supporting the templars, she protected herself, and the templars gave her the right to roam around freely. They also sent appreciative sums of coin for any apostates she captured or killed - the latter being the most common scenario. And it gave her power, wealth and influence. The templars were the most influential force in Kirkwall.

"**Abomination!** Stop daydreaming and get your arse moving, or I will make you useful as a blood sacrifice!" Mari hissed, those icy eyes piercing his flesh.

Anders took a deep breath, as Justice simmered with contempt and downright fury. Sometimes Anders wished he could say that he was afraid of her. That he was the equal of his fellow mages in this blighted city, but he had nothing to fear from her. He was useful, and as long as he went on being useful to her, he would live.

They had been rivals from the very beginning, but still his vision of her had changed over the years. In the beginning, he had thought her unreasonable and slightly off balance. It wasn't until the Deep Roads that he realized that her heart was colder than anything he had ever encountered. He believed that even the Arch Demon might be more compassionate than her.

_They had ventured into the Deep Roads, and he had been brought because he was a warden and the Queen of horrors could not be bothered to learn healing. Not that Anders ever believed she possibly could, as it required empathy. She had also brought her brother, Carver. Anders and Carver hadn't gotten on very well, but it was clear to Anders that he had tried to do what was best for his family. He had first thought that Carver resented his sister, only for being a mage. How he wished he had been right._

_After they had been betrayed by Varric's brother, Bartrand, they tried to find another way out of the Deep Roads. They met a demon along the way with which Hawke, of course, made a deal, but eventually they made their way towards the surface. Too late did Anders realize that Carver had the taint. "Not that it would have mattered," his mind scoffed. Carver fell over, and Anders managed to catch him._

_"Get your useless arse up, you sorry excuse for a warrior," Mari hissed._

_"I don't think I can," Carver said meekly._

_"It's the taint. I can feel it. But there might be something we can do," Anders replied, holding Carver and trying to limit his pain with a mild healing spell._

_"What is it, Blondie?" Varric enquired, and walked over next to them._

_"I stole the maps for some wardens in Kirkwall. I wanted to see if they were looking for me. They weren't. But the point is, that the wardens are here and I might be able to convince them to conscript Carver. It might prevent the taint from killing him," Anders explained._

_"Then let's do it. Hang in there, Junior. We'll get you out of this," Varric smiled._

_Mari groaned with frustration, and before any of them realized what was going on, Mari had planted a dagger in Carver's heart. She then used the blood to fuel herself, draining the body of her brother completely. She sighed blissfully, with a smile on her face. Anders and Varric looked at her in horror._

_"How could you!" Anders exclaimed angrily._

_"We don't have time for this, and he was always whining and complaining. Let us get going and let the corpse rot." Mari said coldly, and walked off._

_Anders' eyes flared blue, Justice raging inside him like a rabid wolf, scratching its claws at the barrier of Anders' will. Begging to be released so that he might get vengeance and justice, paid with blood. Her blood. Anders was about to let him, when he felt Varric's hand on his shoulder._

_"I know how you feel, Blondie. Trust me, Bianca wants nothing more than to give Hawke her most deadly kiss, but we need her to get out of here alive," Varric said, only barely controlling his own anger._

_"If she doesn't kill us first," Anders growled in a low voice._

Maker, he **hated** that woman! And from that day on, so did Varric, though Varric was more passive in his expression of it. He and Hawke had come to a mutual understanding. Do not get in the way of each other's business, and for every time you help me, I will help you - a deal Hawke honoured as long as it was useful to her. Anders also knew Varric had another reason for working with her. Hawke hadn't picked up on it yet, but in some cases Varric would actually warn the people they were after, giving as many as possible the opportunity to get away from her.

Anders had no idea how she had achieved it, but over the years she had managed to make every single one of her companions hate her. But the only hatred for this woman that rivalled his own, was held by Fenris. She was living proof that everything Fenris said was true, which only made Anders hate her more. The final proof emerged when Hawke 'adopted' one of Hadrianna's slaves – a slave which she now treated cruelly. To this day, Anders still wondered why Hawke had helped the elf in the first place.

Guard Captain Aveline hated the woman, as much as the others. She watched over Hawke constantly, trying to protect the city from her. She had even doubled patrols around her house. The only reason Aveline treated Hawke with some respect was for the sake of Hawke's mother, Leandra. She had tried to arrest Hawke once, but the lovely Knight-Commander had ordered the woman released as "she did a remarkable service in protecting the city from mages".

"Bitch!" Anders' mind roared, not knowing if he was referring to Knight-Commander Meredith or Hawke.

Even Merrill hated her. Both being blood mages, Anders thought they would have had something in common, but Merrill did have some goodness in her, if a bit naive in Anders' opinion. The highlight of that particular rivalry had occurred when Mari killed a young girl, trapped somewhere with some raiders they were clearing out for money. Before Anders had a chance to stop her, Mari had gutted the girl like a hunter's kill. She ferociously ripped the entrails from her body, wrenched away her bones, and actually cracked them before sucking out the marrow. It had ended as she filled herself with the power of the blood, before tossing her victim's intestines to Merrill, who only just caught them.

"Feel the power, little knife-ear." Mari had smirked, with blood smeared all over her face.

Merrill had thrown it to the ground with a cry of terror, her eyes filling with tears before she leaned against Anders with a violent sob. She then vomited, only just missing his boots. Mari had just laughed hysterically, while Anders tried to comfort Merrill. Merrill had locked herself in her house for days after that. Varric had checked on her and even Anders visited and gave her something sedative to get her to sleep.

Then there was Isabella. She was the only one who might not directly hate Hawke, as she did make some money from helping her. She also just happened to be Hawke's lover. "Sex toy," his mind corrected. As long as Isabella would put out, she would get a bigger share of the profits they made. Anders knew there had to be more to it than that, but Isabella wouldn't say. And Anders didn't exactly press for information. Seeing Hawke openly feel up Isabella at the Hanged Man, in a way that made even Isabella blush, was torture enough. Because Anders was haunted by Hawke. Obsessed with her. Painfully and excruciatingly in love with her. Anders laughed at himself with loathing and disgust. A man was supposed to fall in love with the woman of his dreams. Not the woman of his nightmares! And yet he ached for her. Yearned for her with such a passion, that it could be compared to Justice's need for vengeance.

"What are you hoping to accomplish? Make her a better person?" His mind scoffed at him, and now, even some of Justice's thoughts might agree. Anders had to laugh at the absurdity. For yes, he had hoped that he could change her. That he could make her see. That somehow he could appeal to something in her that could make her better. He had long since given up that notion. For one, she was a lesbian and would never look at him that way. For another, if she'd ever had a heart, it had been turned to dust long ago. Now his obsession with her was different. He wanted her to submit. Wanted her to fall to her knees and admit that he was right. He wanted her to beg for his forgiveness, and beg for mercy as had so many of her victims. Even his sexual fantasies of her were beginning to become violent. It was disturbing, how much his vengeance fed off her, and he terrified even himself at times.

She was constantly harassing and bickering with Sebastian, trying to get him to take back his throne. Sebastian was very passive in his rivalry with her, but Anders had seen him lose his temper from time to time. In the past, Anders had overheard Mari plotting to marry Sebastian, when his throne was regained. And this despite the fact that she only liked women. The mere thought that a sexual predator, who had been thrown out of the Blooming Rose for tormenting the prostitutes, could be married to the self righteous and religious Prince, was ludicrous. But for her it was just about power.

A blood spell, forcing him to the ground in agony, awoke him from his thoughts. Hawke stood looking down at him with those cold, merciless and malicious eyes.

"I said no daydreaming! You sorry excuse for an abomination! Had you been real as one, you would at least have been of use." Mari hissed and released the spell before walking away.

Merrill ran to his side and knelt next to him. Comforting and kindly, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder as he was still crouching in pain.

"Are you alright, Anders?" she asked, with tearful eyes.

Her eyes were always watery since meeting Hawke. Always in pain, always tormented.

"Just wonderful, thank you for asking." He said sarcastically, as she helped him to his feet.

"I'm sure she didn't mean to harm you. She is just worried about her mother," Merrill tried to justify.

Anders smiled softly at her. There had been a small upside to Hawke's insanity. It had made the others much better friends. He had never imagined getting on with Merrill and Aveline as well as he did, but with the menace that was Hawke, circumstances had forced them to seek friendship in each other. All of them, even Fenris, working together, tried to limit the damage that Hawke did. So he had become protective of Merrill, as if she were one of the young apprentices in the Tower. Merrill was a bloodmage, but since seeing what Hawke had done, she could barely use a minor spell without getting sick. In the beginning they would fight about the subject, but with Hawke filling their lives with misery, their petty differences seemed to fade. Anders wished he could say that it was a demon within Hawke that made her act this way, but it wasn't. There was no demon. He had checked. Lately he had begun to wonder if the reason was, that even demons were terrified of her - perhaps even as disgusted with her as he was.

Anders and Merrill followed Hawke, Varric and Gascard. Perhaps he should show some understanding, as Hawke's mother was currently in the hands of an insane killer. They came to a filthy room filled with furniture. The killer's lair, it would seem. Anders' blood ran cold as he saw the picture hanging there. Varric saw it too, as they approached.

"By the ancestors... that looks like Mistress Amell, doesn't it?" Varric questioned, looking at Anders.

"It does... this is a shrine for a wife? Sister?" Anders wondered.

"We better hurry," Merrill said with concern.

"Would you three shut your cock-sucking holes, before I sew them shut?!" Mari growled.

Anders and Varric sighed, while Merrill trembled, before they turned to look at Hawke. Hawke wasn't even the least interested in the painting, but was looking with great interest at the books on necromancy spread around the room. Now Anders didn't feel guilty anymore. Hawke cared as little for her mother as she did for any of them. Eventually she looked up at them with a smile. Her mother was kidnapped by a killer and the woman was bloody smiling!

"Oh, I want to meet this man." She purred, still smiling with a coldness that never left her gaze.

"You are insane!" Anders said, with disgust.

"Another word, abomination, and I will kill Merrill." She threatened coldly, and Merrill began to whimper as Varric moved the elf behind him.

"You wouldn't dare!" Anders hissed, flashes of blue caressing his eyes.

Mari walked over to him, and with her sharpened metal glove she held his chin. Her nails dug into him, and he could feel the blood running down his throat. Her face was so close to him, he could feel her breath. He hated her, and yet all he could think of was claiming those lips in a kiss. See if that could melt her heart. What was wrong with him?

"Normally I would threaten your life, but that means nothing to you. So instead, I threaten the abomination's pathetic knife-eared maleficar. Don't for a moment doubt that I will hesitate to kill her," she purred against his lips.

She then moved her hand to the back of his neck, and licked the blood flowing down his throat. She pulled away her lips covered in his blood, licking them.

"Sweet... of course you would be sweet," she stated, and walked away.

Anders tried to ignore the perverted arousal she had created, and turned to Merrill. He held his arm around her shoulder as she had with him only minutes earlier, and kissed her head. She leaned into his shoulder and cried into his feathers.

"It's alright. I won't let her hurt you," Anders crooned before they followed the Queen of Horrors.

They walked into a connected room and saw a man in robes, standing with his back turned. The killer. He turned to look at them with eyes almost as icy and deranged as Hawke's.

"I was wondering, when you would show up. Leandra was so sure you would come for her," he said.

"I have been looking forward to meeting you," Hawke replied in a snarky tone, her eyes filled with malice.

"Yes... and she spoke of you. What a lovely, gentle woman."

"Quentin!" Gascard said sternly, walking forward.

"Gascard... so... you have reached me after all these years. I'd figured you gave up."

"And the plot thickens! How delightful! Another person with a fascination for true power," Hawke laughed.

"Yes. I am going to learn your secrets old man. Everything you kept from me," Gascard demanded.

"And the same goes for me," Hawke snarled.

"I'm sorry, Gascard. When my wife died, I lost all hope. I wasn't able to be the mentor you deserved. But now my work is finished and I can teach you, like I always meant to," Quentin replied.

"You will let me be a part of this? You'll teach me the secrets of necromancy. I..." Gascard replied, when a dagger gutted him from his abdomen and all the way to his throat. Mari licked the dagger when she pulled it from him.

"I have a better idea. Teach me," Mari smirked.

"You can't be considering this!" Anders objected.

"Ah ah... one move, abomination, and Knife-ears gets that treatment as well," Mari warned with a purring sound, while wagging her finger.

Anders froze, his eyes burning with fury and his fists clenching into tight balls, his knuckles turning white. Quentin looked at Mari with great interest.

"Others have never understood my purpose, but you might. Your mother was chosen because she was special. And now she is part of something greater. I have done the impossible. I have touched the face of the Maker and lived. Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is?... love. I pieced her together from memory. I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers. And at last, her face... oh, this beautiful face. I searched far and wide to find you again, beloved, and no force on earth will part us," Quentin explained, and from the chair rose a woman Anders recognized as Leandra.

"No... **No!**" Anders roared, and Justice emerged.

Mari roared with frustration, but even she had better sense than to turn against Justice. Quentin rose up demons and undeads and soon a battle began. Between them, Justice and Mari slaughtered everything around them, while working in harmony. Harmony – an absurd way to see the cooperation of these opposite forces – one of righteousness, and the other of pure malice. Perhaps this was why he loved her. Because she was his opposite. Or perhaps it was because as long as she existed, there would at least be one person in the world more monstrous than he and Justice. As the battle ended, Anders was relieved that he had succeeded in killing Quentin. Had he lived Mari might have spared him. Leandra's body wobbled forward towards Mari, but she only pushed Leandra away and Anders just managed to catch her. Mari went directly to Quentin instead. Anders' eyes were brimming, part in rage and part in pain. During the past two years, he had become very fond of Leandra. He remembered a few weeks ago, when she came to him.

_Anders had just healed a child with a stomach infection, when he realized Leandra was standing in the doorway with a basket in her hands. Anders' blood ran cold. She only did that when she needed healing. Anders smiled kindly at her and walked over to give her a hug. Leandra shuddered lightly with a trembled breath and Anders knew she had needed it. She put the basket forward, when she pulled away._

_"Thank you, Leandra. Why don't you sit down?" he offered, placing the basket on the table._

_He pulled forth a chair and sat down in front of the cot where Leandra was seated. Anders sighed._

_"Where did she hit you this time?" he asked softly._

_Leandra pulled down the collar of her dress, and Anders saw a purple handprint and claw marks on her throat. Mari had tried to strangle her. This also explained why the woman couldn't speak at the moment. Anders took a deep breath as Justice was raging inside him. He placed his hand on her throat and healed her._

_"There, it should be better now," he smiled._

_"Thank you... it was my own fault you know," Leandra said solemnly._

_"No, it wasn't. She has no right to treat you like this," Anders insisted, stroking her shoulder._

_"You are a good man. You are so much like my husband. Just as kind. He was a healer, as well you know. And even when we met, he talked about reforming the circle. I was lucky to have him," she smiled softly._

_"He was lucky to have you. I don't understand how two such caring people could have such a cr... angry daughter," he corrected. _

_He knew Leandra loved her daughter and he had no intentions of adding to her pain._

_"I don't know what we did wrong. She always was like that. Unable to show sympathy, compassion or love for anyone. The things she did, even as a little girl, were horrifying. We even considered sending her to the circle once, but I couldn't bear the thought of my little girl being tranquil." Leandra sobbed and leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder._

_Anders wondered just how many tears his feathers had absorbed because of Hawke. Many of them, his own._

He looked down at Leandra and tried to heal her.

"I'm so sorry. There is nothing I can do. His magic was the only thing keeping you alive," he whispered in a raspy voice, stroking her face with loving care.

"It's alright. I will know peace now. I will see my family again. I'm sorry I could never love her anger away," Leandra replied, before taking her last breath.

"Hawke, she is gone. If that even matters to you," Anders spat, tears flowing freely from his eyes and his teeth grinding.

"So is this bastard! Why did you kill him? I could have **used** him! Bah, you three just get out of here and spare me your pathetic tears," Mari groused.

Anders picked up Leandra's body and walked out of the room. On his way, he heard the squealing sound of a rat in agony. It was a sport of hers, tormenting rats, birds or any other defenceless creature she could get near. Anders kissed Leandra's forehead, before leaving.

* * *

Anders slammed the door to his clinic and let out a wail in rage. Leandra had been buried that day, and her daughter didn't even bother to show. He sat down at his desk and worked on his manifesto, hoping to take his mind off it. It didn't work. Suddenly, the doors to the clinic were torn open and in came Aveline, carrying an unconscious Hawke, and the rest of the group following them. Aveline placed Hawke on a cot and Anders walked over to them. Her head was absolutely smeared with blood, but for once it was her own. Fear gripped his heart, and he realized that he couldn't bear for her to die. Justice argued that it would better to let the demon mistress die, and Anders scolded his heart for feeling this way about her.

"What happened?" Anders asked.

"I have no idea. We were going over to the estate to make her explain why she hadn't come to her own mother's funeral, and drag her back to the Chantry. But when we arrived, we found her surrounded by her own blood and in this state," Aveline replied.

Anders examined her with his healing.

"She has a massive head trauma, and there is some magic here I am unfamiliar with. She is dying, but I think I can save her," Anders explained.

"Do we want you to heal her? She is as cruel as any magister in Tevinter!" Fenris hissed.

"Maybe the elf is on to something. She has taken a lot of innocent lives over the years," Varric pointed out.

"Surely, we are not considering letting her die?" Sebastian said, horrified.

"Aaawww... but she's a tiger between the sheets," Isabella argued, though not very passionately.

"I sure wouldn't miss her," Aveline agreed.

"We can't let her die," Merrill objected.

They all, except Anders, gave her a curious look.

"Of course the other blood mage would say so," Fenris scoffed.

"If we let her die, we will be no better than her. We will have proven her right," Merrill argued.

"We have to try and heal her. The Maker can decide whether she survives or not," Sebastian replied.

Aveline made a heavy sigh.

"Merrill's right," Aveline nodded.

"**Venhides!**" Fenris growled, and threw his hands up.

Anders began healing Hawke and after about half an hour, he completed the task. He sighed and was a little ashamed to admit it was in relief, before washing the blood off her face. The others still waited in the clinic. Fenris had a hand on his sword, no doubt hoping she would turn into an abomination as soon as she woke, so he could kill her. As Anders was about to remove the rest of the blood, her eyes slowly fluttered open. She groaned with pain and sat up slowly.

"What happened?" she asked with a strained voice.

"We don't know. You had been performing some ritual and you got hurt. You had a large fracture in your skull and had suffered brain damage, but I managed to heal it," Anders replied in an informative way, his relief already turned into annoyance.

Mari looked up at him, her pupils slightly dilated.

"Thank you, Anders," she smiled softly and kindly, with true warmth in her expression as she caringly stroked his arm.

They all spun around, looking at her as if struck by lightning.

* * *

_Author's note:_  
_A special thanks to Flint and Feather, who is a beta reader for me on this story. For those who are interrested in Hellboy stories, you should read hers. They are very good._


	2. Chapter 2 Paradoxial

**Paradoxial**

Mari looked up at him, her pupils slightly dilated.

"Thank you, Anders," she smiled softly and kindly, with true warmth in her expression as she caringly stroked his arm.

They all spun around, looking at her as if struck by lightning. As Anders looked down at her, he was at a loss for words. The eyes suddenly displayed emotion, her voice softened, and that touch still seared the skin on his hand. Her touch was so kind and affectionate, that it seemed surreal. And the words she spoke almost held terror in their own right, despite them being kind. She never used his name. It was always 'Abomination'. In fact, he wasn't even sure she remembered his real name. And she never thanked anyone! Not once. Mari **never **acted like this. He must have been silent for many seconds, as her eyes showed sudden confusion while she looked around at all of them.

"What did you call me?" he finally managed to ask.

She smiled a little at his question. An actual smile. Not the perverted movements of her lips that she usually formed.

"Well, Anders, of course. Or have you completely embraced Blondie? I can call you that if you prefer," she giggled softly, looking at Varric.

And she giggled! **Giggled!** Anders turned to Varric with some desperate hope that the dwarf could explain what was going on. One look, and Anders knew it had been a false hope. Varric looked as stunned as Anders felt, as were their other companions. Fenris was still holding a tight grip on his sword, but his mouth was hanging open. Something Anders would have loved to point out, but currently that was the least astounding thing happening in that room. Everyone looked paralyzed, and Anders was feeling... well he wasn't exactly sure. Confused, with a hint of utter terror, perhaps? But no words seemed to do this scenario justice, or his feelings in relation to it. Hawke looked around at them, her eyes wide, and seemed almost as confused as they. Her eyes caught Anders', and his heart skipped a beat.

"The ritual... I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked with true concern.

He would have laughed at the absurdity of that, except it appeared that she was being absolutely sincere. As she said it, she stood up and reached to touch his arm gently. He was so surprised, he withdrew almost violently, as one would if being burned by fire. He instantly regretted it, when he saw something like... no, not something like, he saw **actual** hurt in her eyes. The icy eyes had now almost been completely transformed into dark pupils, and there were tears in them. He couldn't believe it, but he actually felt sorry for her. Sorry for hurting her. She stepped back a little, looking around at them with questioning eyes. Her eyes looked again into his, pleading and glistening with unshed tears. So vulnerable. And if not for the blood covering her, and the fierceness he knew her to be capable of, he would have found himself persuaded to think her... afraid.

"_This is a ruse, mortal! Do not be deceived by it,_" Justice warned in his mind.

Justice was right. Of course he was. This was just another way for her to torment them, to torment him. Since when had she ever done anything else? "You're sounding like Fenris," his mind whispered. Still, he couldn't look away. Since he had met her, he'd felt as if he had to force his heart to beat naturally. So many times had it been beating at a painfully fast pace, or forced to completely stop, as she created never before known horrors right in front of him. Now it felt like his heart had regained a rhythm that sustained him, without him needing to use every ounce of his will to make it so. Even as he felt every single beat, making him aware of his entire torso, gone were the agony and guilt that had haunted him for years.

"Anders?" Hawke said, barely above a whisper.

It was a plea. She was pleading and searching comfort from him. He would have believed himself to be in the fade, if not for the fact that Justice would have been in control. It could have been a dream, but not even in his dreams had he dared to imagine her speaking his name so softly.

"Blondie, what in the name of the Paragons is going on?" Varric asked, seemingly the only one of their companions who had got his mental faculties restored.

Anders closed his eyes tightly shut, while shaking his head before looking back at her.

"I think you might have been more seriously hurt than I thought. What is the last thing you remember?" he asked Hawke, while gesturing her to sit back down on the cot.

She sat down hesitantly and creased her eyebrows in concentration. She rubbed her face as she remained silent, obviously still gathering her thoughts. She then grasped her hair, before uttering a sound of frustration.

"I can't concentrate. I feel like it's almost there, like a thought that only just slipped my mind. Something consistent, but still so vivid. It feels like I am in some sort of haze... can I have some water? Perhaps if I splash some water in my face, I might be able to concentrate," she requested.

And she smiled softly again...that heart wrenching smile that tore him apart. Regardless that his emotions were in turmoil, he did as she asked and put a bowl of water on a table near her. She thanked him again. Words he had never heard her utter in the two years he had known her, were now given without a second thought. She walked over to the water and began to lower her hands into the bowl. She gave a shriek and jumped back as if something terrible was hidden there. The group all jumped nervously, and drew their weapons. Almost simultaneously they all released a breath, while watching Hawke, who stared at the bowl of water, her face filled with fear...another emotion he knew she was incapable of. It had to be ruse. A deception of some kind. Hawke would never act like this.

"Maker, what is it?" Aveline asked, almost annoyed.

Hawke looked at them, her body trembling.

"I don't recognize my reflection," she said, with tearful eyes.

* * *

**Twelve hours earlier**

It was with a sense of satisfaction that Mari began preparing for the ritual. She walked about Quentin's lair, gathering the last things she needed for it. She had known from the day they first found those bones, in a foundry two years ago, that Quentin was doing remarkable and fascinating things. A true mage, he was, not as the pathetic life forms crawling around the city like vermin. The minute she entered that foundry, she had instantly felt the greatness of it. Not like the Abomination, or the Knife-ear claiming to be a blood mage of true power, only to get sick when it was used to its full potential. They were pathetic and weak, both of them. Well... the Abomination was strong in body and in his blighted infuriating will. She would have controlled his mind if she could, but that bloody demon of his made that impossible. Fortunately, she had learned other means of controlling him. She had seen how he watched her, like a feral beast during the mating season, prowling around her as though she were in heat. Deluded fool. She would never understand his need to constantly express himself and his emotions, but that sexual tension... that desire she understood. That desire she could manipulate. Personally, she had never seen a use for emotion. She felt only one; lust. Lust for flesh, lust for sex, but the highest lust, for world shattering **power**! And now, thanks to baiting Quentin with another 'victim', she had succeeded.

She had arrived at the mansion and was satisfied when all the servants had cleared out, as she had demanded. She must be alone, to prevent the possibility of anyone else absorbing the power of the ritual. Venturing to her bedroom, she could almost feel the power rushing through her already. It was above any orgasm that Isabella could ever force forth in her. Now her, she could manipulate! This was what made the pirate so perfect for her, even though Isabella didn't embrace all of her passions. Luckily, she had the Rose for that...which reminded her that it would only be a few days before she was no longer banned from there. And they had just acquired the sweetest little blonde girl, innocent and hardly touched. She could already see it before her - the blood, and hear her screams. Hawke's loins flamed at the mere thought of it, but it would have to wait.

In the room, Hawke prepared the lyrium, and placed the crystals as described. Three crystals of power. But now, she must decide what these powers were to be. Her thoughts drifted to the Abomination for some reason, to his emotions and how he was a slave to them. If she could manipulate people's emotions, she could make them do anything. The way he guarded himself, seemed as though his secrets were so much darker than anyone else's. And yet, secrets held power. People would do extraordinary things to keep them hidden. She cut her wrist with a hiss of pleasure, feeling the warm blood run down her cold fingers. She released a spell at the first crystal.

"I want to control emotions, to feel them as they bow to me. Control is power."

She turned to the next crystal and began channelling her magic.

"I want to know about the people around me, their darkest secrets and desires. Knowledge is power."

Then the last.

"I want absolute mastery over my magic, to use every ounce of strength within it. Force is power."

The blood ventured from her wrists through the air to all three crystals at once. The blood poured from her, as her veins were cracked wide open. Blood and magic simmered through the air, making her every hair rise up. She was panting heavily with excitement, and the new discomfort in her body gave her pleasure. She gave a manic, exulting laugh, as the crystals gathered their full strength. Around her, they created a cage of red electricity, and she was bursting with anticipation as she felt the power of it. Too late, she realised that the magic was then being cast at her, and not merging with her as she had intended. A red beaming light charged into her head, and for once, she was the one to scream in agony. She felt pressure behind her eyes and a jolt of electrical pain surging down her spine, as her back was suddenly soaked with her own blood. The blood remaining in her veins pounded as if she were about to explode. For once, she was the one enraptured by the darkness, alone, and shrieking in torment.

* * *

**Present**

"I don't recognize my reflection," Hawke said, with tearful eyes.

This made Anders pay attention, and he completely forgot his own distorted feelings, his confused mind and spirit. He looked at her carefully, and felt a small amount of pity. She looked terrified.

"What do you mean, you don't recognize your reflection?" Aveline asked, with a doubtful expression.

"Aveline, that isn't me. The person doesn't look like me," Hawke replied in a panic, looking down at her hands.

"Then what do you look like?" Isabella asked, more confused than anything.

Hawke looked at her for a moment, and Anders couldn't quite believe it, but she seemed in doubt. She closed her eyes to concentrate, but it seemed to be in vain. Then he could see her trembling.

"I-I don't remember..." she replied hesitantly.

"Oh, you poor dear!" Merrill exclaimed.

Anders had to smile. Leave it to Merrill to instantly feel compassion, even for someone she hated, and without considering that it could be just one more of Hawke's games. But as Anders looked at Hawke, even he couldn't deny that she seemed sincere.

"Andraste have mercy," Sebastian muttered, apparently unable to comprehend it as well.

Anders stepped forward and walked up in front of Hawke. Instinctively, he lifted her chin to make her look at him, and then expected her to hit him for touching her. Only she didn't. She willingly let herself follow the guidance of his hand, and looked at him like a child seeking reassurance. He swallowed, his heart no longer beating at a steady pace. A part of him wanted to look away from her eyes, but for this examination, he couldn't. He held up a finger, and without him having to ask, she let her eyes follow it from to side to side.

"You might have a concussion. It can often result in short term memory loss. Try with something simple. Tell me your name," he requested, his stomach instantly tightening to expect a fist punching him at any second.

She hesitated, and looked at him with a broken expression. She gave a sob as her hand covered her mouth.

"I don't remember," she breathed.

"Come now, you have to remember something. You remember Blondie," Varric argued.

She looked at him, and started hyperventilating.

"I know I should, but... I can't explain it. I see your faces and I **know** you, but about myself, my life... I remember nothing... Anders, what is the matter with me?" she pleaded, turning back to Anders.

He was at a loss for words, and then something happened that he had never imagined in his wildest dreams. She leaned forward, burrowing her face in his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and began to cry. He was in such a state of shock, even his instincts were left dormant. Uncertainly, he moved his arms to almost embrace her, and in the next moment, held away, confident she would tear them off if he tried. A blue flash travelled through the room, and Anders felt her body torn from his. Fenris grabbed her by her throat and trapped her up against a wall, his lyrium tattoos flashing brightly.

"Fenris, what are you doing?" Merrill asked, horrified.

"This is a trick!" he hissed, looking into Hawke's eyes.

"Fenris, put her down," Aveline said calmly.

"**No**! You think that this will work on me, mage? That I will allow you to continue to make people suffer? Do you think because I escaped Tevinter, I would not prevent you from doing the same things here?" he growled at Hawke.

"Fenris... please put me down," Hawke said softly, even as he was crushing her.

Fenris' face went completely blank, and he staggered back as if struck with a brutal force. As with Anders, she'd never used his name, always referring to him as 'slave'. And the Hawke they knew would never have requested to be released. She would have demanded it, and threatened to kill him. She would not have hesitated to use her magic against him. She fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"That's not the Hawke **I **know," Sebastian stated, with wide eyes.

"No shit, choir boy," Varric agreed.

"Alright, let's see if this is Hawke," Isabella proposed.

The pirate queen went directly to Hawke and lifted her to her feet, before claiming her lips in a deep kiss, thrusting her tongue down her throat. Hawke made a noise of panic and surprise, with her eyes wide open. She pushed away the pirate and stepped backwards. She looked at Isabella with questioning eyes.

"Isabella, how much have you had to drink?" Hawke asked carefully.

Their jaws dropped open.

"Alright, that is **not** Hawke," Isabella stated, with a puzzled expression.

"This is a dream isn't it? In a moment I am going to realise I have no pants on and wake up, aren't I?" Merrill asked.

"No, Merrill. This is real," Aveline replied, and walked over to Hawke.

Aveline placed her hands on Hawke's shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"Aveline...?" Hawke said, with a plea that made Anders' heart ache.

"What in Maker's name happened to you, Hawke? It doesn't even feel right to call you that," Aveline smiled, a little sadly.

"But if I am not Hawke, then who am I? Why do I look like her? Why do I remember you and nothing about myself?" she asked, again looking at Anders.

Why did she look to him for answers? Why did she seek comfort in him? She would never have done so before. What could possibly have happened to make her change so radically? He walked over to her.

"Well, you are Hawke, but whatever that ritual did, has affected your memory somehow. But if you want me to, I will try to help you get it back," Anders promised.

"I am not sure we should. The Maker has obviously intended for this to happen. Perhaps this is her second chance, a chance to right the wrongs she has done, and seek the Maker's forgiveness," Sebastian argued.

"You know, choir boy makes some sense," Varric agreed.

This made Hawke step forward.

"Right my wrongs? What did I do?" she asked curiously, and looked around at them.

Suddenly, they all became silent. How were they to say that they all knew her to be a vicious killer with no love for anyone or anything but herself? That the only thing to surpass her cruelty was her lust for power? Ultimately, their silence said more than words ever could have. And she lowered her eyes the floor, as she turned completely pale.

"It must have been very terrible, when those I remember being closest to, don't want me to return to normal," she concluded, her voice sad and haunted.

Merrill, bless her heart, walked directly over to Hawke and pulled her into a hug. Hawke smiled and returned the hug with more affection than Anders had ever thought she could possess. Merrill had spent years being terrified of this woman, and with good reason. But now, only after ten minutes, Hawke had changed so much that even little Merrill felt a need to protect her.

"We will help you through this, Hawke," Merrill promised.

"You know, this promises to be the best story I have ever got the opportunity to tell. But it doesn't seem right to call you Hawke, or Mari, for that matter," Varric replied.

"What is wrong with my name?" Hawke asked, pulling out of Merrill's embrace.

"Oh, sweetness... you see, you were very good at protecting yourself. And you did that by making people afraid of you. It worked well. But **you** are different," Isabella explained.

Hawke looked around at them.

"You were frightened of me, of what I was capable of doing. And when you say Mari Hawke, you are reminded of all of it... then, what will you call me?" she stated sadly.

"You could choose your own name!" Merrill suggested, almost with excitement.

"I don't even know who I am. How am I supposed to choose a name?" Hawke giggled.

"We could call you Mira. You are still Hawke, just a different Hawke," Varric suggested.

"It sounds pretty, doesn't it? Mira Hawke?" she asked, looking at Anders for confirmation.

Anders didn't trust himself to speak, and settled for a nod. It struck him that he was feeling every possible emotion at once. It only intensified when their eyes met, and she blushed. She blushed by looking at him? She cleared her throat and looked up.

"I would like to see this ritual. I want at least to know what I did, or if I did... something horrible to achieve it," she said solemnly.

"Then you should clean up. Walking through Hightown covered in blood, only attracts attention," Fenris said calmly, though everyone could see he was far from relaxed.

Mira nodded and walked over to the bowl of water. She approached it hesitantly, as if it were poisonous. Slowly, she looked into the water and just stared for a little while, before dipping her hands in and washing off the blood. They all smiled, even Fenris, when she tried to wash away the tattoo in the middle of her face. Realising what it was, she smiled sheepishly and gave them a faked scowl. It was almost devastating to see her act in this way, and Anders didn't know whether to mourn, or feel joy. But with everything as yet so unknown, either would be premature.

"Tell me something. If I am so vicious, I am pretty sure I am covered in blood most of the time. So what is the point of this tattoo?" Mira mused.

This actually made all of them chuckle and look at each other in total disbelief. What in the Maker's name was going on?

* * *

_Author's note:_

_Thank you so much for your reviews. I am looking forward to writing the next chapters and really dive into this character. Again thanks to Flint and Feather for taking the time to read this through for me and so quickly._


	3. Chapter 3 Her and She

**Her and she**

Anders watched Mira closely, as they all exited his clinic. In the way she looked about, she appeared to know where she was, and yet seemed so lost. As if she had walked there a thousand times in the dark and for the first time, was seeing it in daylight. Fenris watched her as well, Anders noticed, with even more suspicion than usual. He had not entirely abandoned the notion that all of this was some kind of elaborate ruse. Mira took a turn away to look down into the lower parts of Dark Town, and saw the refugee camps. Anders wanted to study her expression as she observed them, but didn't get the chance. Fenris grabbed her arm tightly, and led her back in their direction of travel. Had it been anyone else, Anders was ashamed to admit, he would have objected to her being treated so cruelly. But the person just happened to be Hawke, and yet he began to doubt, as she didn't object. For once, she was the one being led like a prisoner and she followed calmly. From the look on Fenris' face, Anders knew they were both astonished by it. So Fenris became a little more insistent, pushing to see if he could provoke the response they all expected from her. None of them interfered. Anders did begin to wonder why she followed so willingly. A chilling thought entered his mind. Perhaps with this change, she had lost her will as well. Perhaps she had become weak, and that made his heart shake in horror. If she was not as strong as before, how was she to avoid the templars... unless she went on helping them? In that case, how was she to accomplish all that was necessary, for that purpose as well? Many things could be said about Mari Hawke, but she was powerful.

Consumed by his thoughts, it was a while before he realised how her face had fallen with pain, as she walked past the refugee camps. He found pity and heartfelt compassion in that expression. She put her hand into her pocket in search of something, and then turned to another. Fenris' grip tightened. She let out a sigh.

"Sweet Fenris, I know that you find it very difficult to trust me. I am sure you have a perfectly good reason, but please release me," Mira said softly.

"Good reason? You have no idea what you have done! How many people you have tormented! If this isn't just all a lie?" Fenris growled.

"You are right, but I have a related question. Why didn't you stop me?" she asked.

Anders was sure it would have made Fenris' rage boil over, if not for the way she asked it. It was not an accusation. It was a plea. For a fraction of a second, something resembling guilt passed over the former slave's face. Mira saw it too, and reached to touch his cheek softly.

"Don't—don't touch me," Fenris objected, his voice slightly uneven as he pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Could you release me long enough for me to get my coin purse?" she then asked, her voice as soft as ever.

He released her arm carefully, ready to grab her again should she try to run. She rubbed her arm where Fenris had held her, and Anders was certain it would leave a mark. He considered walking over and healing her, but didn't. It was strange in some way. When she had been Mari, violent, bloodthirsty and deranged, he had never been this hesitant, but this sudden shift in her personality made everything seem so unpredictable. Before, he'd been absolutely sure of her reactions, but with her opposite new demeanour, she burdened him with the feeling that he was walking blindfolded along a rope, over an abyss. He watched in disbelief as Mira reached for her purse and knelt down in front of a little elven child. No less than a sovereign was placed in the hand of the little girl, who looked at her in awe.

"Thank you so much, messere!" the elven girl cried, her eyes tearing as she swung her arms around Mira's neck.

"Lynaya! Get away from her!" a man's voice sounded.

Who appeared to be the girl's father, approached and pulled the girl away. He looked at Mira with terror in his eyes. She very carefully stood up. Anders took a heavy breath. Commonly, when Hawke walked through Dark Town, she would harass the refugees. The child didn't recognize Mira as the heartless woman who, too often, added insult to their misfortune. But her father did. The girl reached her little hand up towards her father.

"Look," she said with a bright smile.

"Give it back," her father demanded.

"But..." the girl objected.

"Do as I say!" he insisted.

"No, please keep it," Mira said, in a caring voice.

"And be indebted to you? **Never! **I'll take this money now and you'll come back in a fortnight and demand something in return. For all I know, it could be my daughter," the man scolded, as he forced the gold back into her hand.

The downcast look on Mira's face almost made Anders' heart shatter. The man might as well have slapped her, and she was left completely speechless. Her eyes brimmed, but no tears fell. She looked down with a vacant stare, and her hand opened, letting the gold piece fall to the ground before she turned and walked slowly towards Hightown. Fenris was right behind her, watching over her like a Hawke, ironically enough. Varric picked up the sovereign without the elven family noticing, and handed it to them, making it appear that he was the giver. Aveline, Merrill and Isabella looked at Anders, all of them at a complete loss, while Sebastian shook his head and followed Fenris and Hawke. Unable to put two words together, they caught up to the others.

* * *

In Hightown, Mira still looked stunned and shocked, but more, she seemed to be overtaken by a nervous state. She looked around, and people were either whispering or avoiding looking at her, fear present in all of their faces. Anders felt his mind was no longer working, and though Justice was still unconvinced this wasn't a ruse, the spirit was confused as well. Suddenly, Mira reached out for a wall to balance herself. Anders rushed over and looked down at her. She was looking even paler than usual. She gave him a small sad smile.

"I'm alright. Just a little dizzy," she whispered.

"You have lost a lot of blood. You have to rest, when you get home," Anders instructed, and she nodded.

She reached for his arm, as hesitant as if touching a hot coal, and gave him a questioning look. Knowing what she wanted, he gave her a small nod and she leaned on his arm. Sebastian went his own way at the Chantry, wanting to pray for the Maker's guidance, and Isabella left for an appointment at the Blooming Rose. There clearly had never been much affection for Hawke on her part, not that Anders had expected it.

They finally arrived at the estate, and Mira stopped to look it over.

"Do you remember this?" Anders asked.

"Yes... sort of. I can recall the streets and where things are located. And when I see people, I know their names and what they are like. But it all seems like memories from a dream. I have all the information, but no memory of how it came to me. And that which seems most foreign to me, is myself. Anders, what did I do?" she asked, her face turned up to his.

"I have no idea," he sighed.

Carefully, she opened the door and walked inside. They were greeted by Bodahn, the manservant, who was as friendly as always. For reasons unknown, Hawke had never harmed or threatened Bodahn and his son, Sandal. Mira cautiously went farther in, and looked around.

"It feels as if I have seen a painting of this once, and now am finally seeing it in person," she said, barely over a whisper.

Orana, the slave Mari Hawke had taken in, entered the room, looking very timid and eager to do her mistress' bidding.

"Your slave!" Fenris hissed, in a low voice.

Mira looked at him, completely horrified for a moment. Mira then looked at Orana with a pained expression and walked over to her. She gently placed a hand on the elf's shoulder.

"Orana, I owe you very much and have done you very wrong, I fear. If you want to stay here in the future, you can, but it will be as my servant," Mira said seriously.

"You mean, I won't be a slave anymore?" Orana asked, with surprise.

"You will be paid like everyone else. Bodahn, would you be sure to have a proper room made up for her, and take her out to buy clothes and anything else she might need?" Mira requested, turning to the dwarf.

"It will be my pleasure, messere," Bodahn smiled.

"Thank you mistress. You are too good to me," Orana beamed.

"No, I haven't been. Now you are receiving a small token of what you deserve, and I promise I will do anything I can to make sure you are happy here. Go on now," Mira smiled.

Bodahn and Orana went out the door, and Anders couldn't help but smile at Fenris' and Merrill's faces. Mari Hawke had always been a racist, but clearly that had changed as well. A whine came from the corner of the room.

"Mongrel!" Mira said happily, and then paused.

She looked back at them with a look of surprise.

"I called my dog 'Mongrel'!" she sighed with disbelief, while rubbing her forehead.

The dog huddled in the corner, making himself as small as possible. When Mira took a step forward, he crawled in under the table. A flash of pain ventured over Mira's face, as she closed her eyes. She then got down on her knees, to put her hand forward in a non-threatening way.

"It's alright, sweetheart. I won't harm you. You are such a good boy," she cooed softly.

The dog looked confused, but very hesitantly walked towards her, his tail firmly between his legs and his head lowered to the floor. The dog was large and muscular, a true mabari. He was black, but had a brown muzzle, belly and paws, together with the characteristic of owning one ear, (or rather, one and a half). Warily, he approached her, and when she lifted her hand to pet him, he retreated as if slapped. He calmed when she lovingly stroked him and whispered comforting words. The dog studied her closely, before it suddenly gave a happy bark and began licking her like mad. Mira laughed joyously, and it was a hymn Anders had never heard before. Fenris, Aveline, Varric and Anders gave each other looks of complete disbelief, until a smile formed on Fenris' face. Anders looked back at Mira, who was now petting the dog with Merrill sitting beside her, and he had to chuckle. This had to be some sort of madness, but if so, the bloody cure could stay lost forever. Mira's expression changed to one of horror, when she studied the dog's half missing ear.

"These are teeth marks," she swallowed. " **Human** teeth marks."

She didn't ask any questions. There was no need for it. Instead, she kissed the dog on top of his head and burrowed her face in his neck.

"I am so sorry," she whispered.

Anders looked towards the door to the study, seeing a movement. Sandal was standing in the doorway, observing Hawke. The dwarf smiled and walked over to Mira, looking down at her. Mira breathed with relief, and no wonder, as Sandal was the first person she had met that day who was not frightened of her. It was strange, since Mari revelled in people fearing her.

"The scary lady is gone," Sandal stated to Mira, who smiled.

"I suppose she is," Mira replied, and got up from the floor.

Anders and the others stared at the dwarf. They had always known that Sandal was not an ordinary dwarf, but this was odd behaviour, even for him. Mira looked to Aveline.

"Where did you find me?"

"The bedroom, upstairs," Aveline replied, and led the way.

Mira, Merrill and Varric followed Aveline up the stairs, and Anders was about to follow, when Fenris grabbed his arm. Anders gave him an annoyed look and pulled his arm back. They had never been able to unite on much, with the exception of their hatred for blood magic and of course, Mari Hawke. They had even worked together to warn some of her victims. Once, they had even tried to find a way to stop her, but they could never agree on how to achieve it. Fenris, of course, wanted her locked away in the circle and preferably made tranquil, whereas Anders could find no way besides killing her. And he just couldn't bring himself to kill her, as he loved her too much. Justice hounded him for being obsessed with her, since the cost had been the lives of mages, and other innocents alike. At the end of the day, it hadn't mattered what they might try, because Hawke's influence was too strong in all the right places. They couldn't touch her. So all they could do was to follow her, to try to limit the harm she inflicted. Fenris looked at him with a calm expression for once.

"Mage, do you believe this?" Fenris asked.

"I don't know if I dare to believe it, but it is not unheard of for people who suffer traumatic accidents to have memory loss or altered personalities. It is odd that she seems to remember some things and not others, but who knows what kind of magic she has been messing around with," Anders replied with a heavy breath.

"I guess there is only one way to find out," Fenris replied, and walked up the stairs.

Anders looked at Mongrel, whose wet nose was touching his hand. Anders had never appreciated dogs much. Mostly because there were none at the tower, and when he escaped from there, street dogs had always chased him, for one reason or another. For Mongrel however, he had soft spot. Mari had borne as little love for the dog as anyone else, and often left it at home with Leandra. So one day when Leandra had come to visit Anders, she brought the dog along. The templars were looking for Anders that day, and the dog had not only warned him, but had ripped off one of the templars' skirts, inciting them to chase the dog through half of Darktown. Some weeks later, Mongrel had switched target during combat, to prevent Anders from getting stabbed in the back by an assassin. Mari had been so furious with the dog for not heeding her order, that she bit off his ear in rage. Anders had, of course, healed the dog and since that day, felt responsible. Mongrel was as much a victim as any others who crossed Mari Hawke's path.

Anders followed the others upstairs, and what they found was not as terrible as he had expected - or feared. Her bedroom was scarred all around with burn marks, and the carpet was soaked with blood. Varric was standing by a wardrobe, which he opened, only to quickly close it again, and leaned against it.

"Just so you know, none of you might want to look in there," Varric warned.

"Why? What is it?" Fenris asked.

"I need to be **very** drunk to tell you, broody," Varric replied.

Aveline was browsing through some books on the bed. She looked toward Mira, who was studying some notes on her desk... or Mari's desk? Aveline seemed to be considering something, before she looked at Anders and gestured for him to come over. She pointed to the books and Anders picked one up.

"I think I saw these in the lair, where we found Hawke's mother," he said in a low voice.

"My mother?" Mira asked, and for the first time in hours, there was a little light of hope in her eyes.

"You don't remember your mother?" Anders asked, a little confused.

"No... it's like I only begin to remember people, when I see them. I don't know how else to explain it... Where is she?" she questioned.

"Dead," Fenris stated, drily.

"Fenris!" Aveline scolded, but he just grunted.

"D-did I kill her?" Mira asked, horrified.

"Oh, no. A man named Quentin, did," Merrill said instantly, and Anders smiled a little.

Merrill was the only one being actually kind to Hawke. Not that she deserved it, but soon they might all have to realise that this person was not Hawke at all. Mira looked a little relieved, but still mournful. In fact, she looked more wounded by the death of a woman she couldn't remember, than Mari had.

"I would like to have remembered her," she said quietly, and Anders felt his heart tighten a little.

Anders knelt down to take a look at the markings burned into the rug by lyrium. Normally, he would have wondered why the rug hadn't caught on fire as the lyrium was ignited for the ritual, but the rug was soaked with blood. He could feel Justice turning inside him, disgusted by what he was seeing.

Anders looked up and saw Mira walking over to the desk, to look at the things placed there. It was obvious that people rarely came in here. Not even the servants. There was dust and blood everywhere. Mira was still holding a piece of cloth over her mouth. Little did it help her. Anders knew, as well as she, that it was not the smell making her sick, but the revelation of seeing all that she was capable of. Anders knew that feeling all too well, what he had felt after the few times Justice had taken over completely. The vengeful spirit would slaughter their enemies, and after, Anders would reawaken with no memory of what had happened, but with all the horrors he had created laid out around him. Perhaps it was the same for Mira. Maybe she had been sleeping her entire life, and only just awakened. Only just regained her consciousness, and now was left with not just a few chaotic minutes of which she had no memory, but an entire forgotten lifetime. If this was real, then he and she were more alike than he had thought.

His eyes drifted to her again, as she was looking at the papers on the desk. Lifting some of the papers, she noticed a wooden shrine. At her touch, Anders could see the box reacting and removing a magical seal. It startled Mira a little, but she reached to pull it closer to her, letting it stand on the table as she opened it. She gave a yelp and closed the box quickly again, placing both hands on the lid as though afraid it would reopen.

"What did you find?" Aveline asked.

"You don't want to know," Mira replied.

"Let me see it," Aveline said, a little sternly.

Aveline was still cautious around Mira, not quite knowing what to make of her. As were they all. Aveline walked over next to Mira, but where Mari would stubbornly have stood her ground, Mira moved away. Aveline opened the box, and in the same way as Mira, closed it quickly again.

"You were right. I didn't need to know that," Aveline replied to her.

Anders was bursting with morbid curiosity. He stood up to walk over to them, and Mira looked at him, very ashamed. Aveline moved out of the way and Anders opened the box. He nearly jumped as he saw the contents. It was filled with fingers of different sizes and shapes, magically preserved to keep them from decaying. Anders felt his mouth slightly open, before swallowing. He looked at Mira, who was leaning against the wall, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Why?" was all he could think of to say.

He could have hit himself. He had just asked a woman with memory loss why she had a box full of fingers. Much to his surprise however, she actually answered.

"They are trophies. From each of my victims, I presume. Serial killers often do it... I'm a serial killer!" Mira exclaimed, her voice choking.

Anders was tempted to walk over and hold her, but not twenty-four hours ago, she would have gutted him alive if he had tried. So caution made him keep his distance, just like everyone else. She made a slight gagging sound and walked out of the bedroom with haste. Looking out the door, Anders could see her going to the nearest window, opening it and taking in the fresh air. "That poor girl," his mind whispered, and for once, his heart, mind and Justice were in agreement. He took a deep breath and followed her.

"Haw—Mira, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm a monster, Anders. I have a feeling this is only the tip of the iceberg and I am already so disgusted with myself, that the thought of jumping out this window seems reasonable," she replied, rubbing her face.

"I could just end it for you quickly," Fenris replied drily, from the doorway.

Anders gave him a scowl, but Fenris just rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, I'll remember your generous offer," Mira smiled wryly.

Suddenly, she let out a disheartened cry.

"What in the Maker's name will I do? Do I get my memory back? Do I try to undo whatever I've done? Do I want to? I look around and I see the shadows of misery that I have caused, but I don't remember creating it. I **know** I am a monster, but I don't want to be one. I don't feel like person who is capable of doing that," she said, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Anders was about to reply, but to his surprise, Fenris stepped forward and placed himself right in front of her. He took her chin, surprisingly gently this time, and looked into her eyes, as if searching for something.

"You are telling the truth," he said, in a way that sounded almost amazed.

"Yes," she replied meekly.

Anders felt a sting of jealousy at the way they looked at each other, as a mutual understanding seemed to pass between them. But then her gaze turned back to Anders.

"Anders, if you had the chance to remember the things you did, when Justice takes over, would you?" she asked seriously.

"I... I don't think so," he replied, not really sure he had ever considered the possibility before.

She then turned back to Fenris.

"Would you regain your memory if you were me?"

"How do you know?" Fenris asked, his eyes widened.

"I don't know exactly. All I know is, that I know you very well. And don't worry, I would never reveal anything without your consent," she smiled softly.

"What are you talking about?" Anders asked, vaguely annoyed.

"It doesn't concern you, mage," Fenris sneered.

"Fenris..." Mira said softly, and as he looked back at her, a small smile formed.

Anders tightened his fist, as his heart burned. Perhaps, this wasn't a dream after all.

"I would do much to regain what I have lost, but if I could choose not to remember some of the things Danarius made me do, I would," Fenris replied.

Mira nodded, and then something else started brewing in her eyes. Something like uncertainty.

"Tell me, how did I perform this ritual?" she asked.

"Blood magic," Anders replied.

Her eyes widened with alarm, and she paced back and forth, before leaning her back against a wall.

"I'm a mage! And a blood mage, no less. What if I don't know how to use my abilities? What if I get possessed?" she ranted, while slowly sinking to the floor. She then continued, "And if you even mention the circle, Fenris, I'm going to slap you," she threatened.

Fenris laughed at the empty threat, and Anders had to quirk a smile as well. The 'old' Hawke would never have made an empty threat, nor one so mild. Fenris then walked over and crouched, again touching her chin. Anders felt his blood boil with jealousy, but somewhere in his mind, he wasn't sure if he had the right to feel that way.

"You would be kept safe from others, as well as from yourself, and they would be kept safe from you," Fenris said gently.

"We are **not** sending her to the circle!" Anders protested, heatedly.

"She needs training. Who is to provide it, you or Merrill? You would be sending her down the path that led to this mess in the first place," Fenris argued.

"We are not foolish, you know. We could teach her," Merrill offered, coming from the bedroom with Varric and Aveline right behind her.

"Then you are more naive than I thought," Fenris grunted with contempt.

"That's not true," Merrill countered, taking offence.

"Believe what you like. In my experience, mages always find a way to justify their need for power," Fenris said, coldly.

Anders was about to retaliate, but when Mira took Fenris' hand, he lost all train of thought and felt nothing beyond the searing sensation in his heart.

"I know you mean well, Fenris, but if someone wanted to put you back into slavery, would you accept? Even if it was a good Master, and you would never want for anything. Never have to worry about money, Danarius or having a roof over your head, would you give it away then?" Mira asked softly.

"No, I would not," he sighed, but smiled when he looked at her.

"Then it's settled. Merrill and I will train you," Anders stated, walking over and helping Mira to her feet.

To his displeasure, Mira kept her eyes on Fenris.

"Fenris, I promise you this. I will never again kill anyone by using my magic. Never again," she vowed, and both Fenris and Anders were at a loss for words.

"Then how will you protect yourself?" Aveline asked, with a doubtful expression.

Mira grabbed the dagger from Anders' belt and whipped it through the air. It imbedded between the eyes of one of the statues. She smiled innocently, while Fenris, Aveline and Varric gave a chuckle and Merrill and Anders looked at her with disbelief.

"Oh, it's going to be fun. I have never taught anyone before," Merrill said, excitedly.

"Very reassuring," Fenris said sarcastically, but then noticed Mira walking past them with hurried steps.

"Hey, what are you doing, Hawke?" Varric called after her, as she disappeared into the bedroom.

They heard the sounds of fabric being torn apart, and walked in after her. Mira had begun pulling sheets off the bed, ripped up the rug, and was going through her closet. Within a minute or two, she had stripped the room and gathered almost everything into a pile on the floor. She picked up as much as she could and walked out.

"Hawke?" Aveline asked, vaguely.

"I am getting rid of all of this. Everything that is connected to all of this, starting with that disgusting box of fingers," Mira replied.

"We'd better give her a hand then," Aveline stated with a grin, shaking her head in wonder, before picking up a pile.

* * *

Out in the courtyard, Anders and the others helped Mira gather everything, except the books. If complications arose on Mira's condition, they would need them. Mira set the fire, and the pile began to burn. Anders swallowed, when Mira began undressing and throwing her clothing into the fire as well, leaving her only in her smallclothes and breast band. It was the first time Anders had ever seen her so bare, and he chuckled when Fenris looked away a little nervously. Anders knew he shouldn't stare, but he couldn't help it. He had been obsessing over her for years, and dreamed of how she would look. It couldn't really compare. She was pretty, but her body was not very attractive. She looked sickly. She was very spare, to the point that her ribcage protruded, and her thighs and arms were stick thin. She had no breasts to speak of, and as a healer, he realised that her weight was **very** unhealthy. The over use of blood magic had no doubt led to it. Her body needed so much strength to create new blood, that it was prevented from creating any body fat.

Because she was so thin, she began shivering in no time, despite the fire. Anders removed his coat and walked over to place it over her shoulders.

"Come, let us go inside. The others will keep an eye on the fire, and I'd like to see if you have more injuries," he said softly, and she smiled kindly at him as she nodded.

He helped her into the study and made her sit by the fire. He then slowly began to heal any remaining damage, before putting a blanket over her.

"Thank you so much, Anders, for everything. You have absolutely no reason to help me, but you did anyway. You really are a good person, you know," she smiled, and leaned into the chair while closing her eyes.

It was odd, looking at her. She looked exactly like the monster he knew so well and had inexplicably loved, but still, it was so obvious that she had changed. The way she stood and moved now...the harshness replaced with grace and calmness. It was only when she looked up for a moment, that he realised he had been staring at her. She averted her eyes, and a shy smile was revealed. Anders felt his entire being shake, whenever she looked at him that way. Was he trapped in some twisted part of the fade? If inconceivably true, then for the love of the Maker, he didn't want to be released. If events continued like this, mages would be free by the end of the week. And by the end of the month, Mira would love him in return. Anders cleared his throat.

"I... you have to eat plenty and try to gain some weight, especially when you are to start your training. Try to relax the next few days, and if you have any headaches or nausea, then come to me. I will have to leave now, but I'm going to have Merrill teach you the rudimentary spells. Who knows, it might come back to you? Goodbye, Hawke," he said, while getting up and bolting for the door, without giving her the opportunity to answer.

Thinking about Mira falling in love with him made him pause. He had been in love with Mari, but Mira was a completely different person. He had always argued that people fall in love with the whole person, not just the body. But in this case, wasn't it just the body? If Mira was real, and not just some temporary... mistake, then was it fair for him to say that he loved her? And if his heart could be swayed so quickly, had he ever truly loved Mari at all? It broke his heart to leave, but his head was so full of doubt and he wasn't sure of anything anymore. He had no choice but to distance himself for awhile, and in this, he and Justice were in agreement.

* * *

_Author's note: This chapter was a little harder to write than I thought. I still feel bad for the dog! Anyway, I intend to write this entire story from Anders' perspective so I hope you enjoy the way I'm doing this._

_Thank you so much for all the reviews. I always keep starring at my mail box to see if any new reviews are in. And thanks to Flint and Feather, who helps me make this story as good as I can possibly make it._


	4. Chapter 4 Affinity

**Affinity**

"**Abomination!**"

Her voice booms in such a fashion that the walls of Darktown quiver...maybe from the sound, maybe from the fear it spreads. Refugees flee, and the noise of cats' yowling and spitting travels along the corridors, as she approaches. The room turns colder, but he knows it is only his imagination. He is sitting next to a cot where a little girl lies dead. Her hair is long and ebony black, her rosy cheeks turned almost blue now. He tried to heal her... save her, but failed. She looks so peaceful, this child, lying as though asleep. The faint smile left on her lips seems to exist to comfort him, even as he failed to save her, telling him it's alright. And he weeps for this little girl, this innocent life he could not save. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, down his throat. In his grief, he burrows his face at her stomach, turning his head only to kiss her frozen hand, which he presses between his own.

"Forgive me, sweetheart," he sobs in a whisper.

Behind him, he can hear **her** approach, hear her footsteps across the floor while she rakes her metal spiked glove along the wall, to create a screeching that fills the clinic. When the sound stops, he knows what is to come. The glove grabs hold of his shoulder, and even through his feathered coat, he can feel the fingers digging into him.

"Stop whining!" she hisses.

If she were taller, she would pull him to stand or perhaps, if she were kind. But she doesn't. Instead, she hauls him from the stool and drags him halfway through the room, his body scraping against the floor. He feels the burn as the outermost layer of his skin is removed by the friction, and hisses in pain. He turns to look at her as she stands staring at him with icy eyes that pierce his being. She is drenched in blood, and he knows it isn't her own. It never is. And she gives him a look so confident and satisfied with herself, it makes him want to hit her repeatedly, until her facial muscles are too smashed to ever again construct that smug expression. Justice roars in him, lusting for ending her life as Anders lusts for her body. Somehow, this undefined demon in the shape of a woman, has become his every desire. His desire for vengeance, his desire for sex, his desire for freedom, his desire for love and his desire to rescue her. She is all of these things, and his heart aches for her even now, when she is covered in the blood of their kind. He feels Justice's fury burn in him until his eyes fall back to the little girl on the cot. Then the mourning returns. He can't fight, he can't struggle. He has lost the will to do so and his eyes are filled with tears once more.

"What do you want, Hawke?" he asks, barely able to breathe through his tightened chest.

"You!" she growls, with a wicked smile and narrowed eyes.

Still on the dirt-covered floor, he lets his face drop down and tears pour from him, creating a puddle in the dust. He is certain his blood will join them soon enough. Normally he would fight or flee, but after a lifetime of doing so, he is tired. The last of his will has died with that little girl. Perhaps Justice will be able to go on, but Anders will not. He doesn't wish to. He only looks up again when he hears Mari's voice.

"And what is this?" she coos, as she turns to face the dead girl. "A gift for me? I always knew you were far too sentimental," she scoffs with amusement.

"Don't touch her!" he growls, sitting up.

But it is too late. Mari's dagger is already stabbed into the girl's heart, and her cold blood rises from her, surrounding Mari like a whirlpool. The room darkens and the only light is red, the glow from the girl's blood. Justice roars inside Anders, forcing him to go on. To fight. To avenge the lives this monstrous woman has taken. To get revenge for desecrating the corpse of an innocent. He wants to protest, but doesn't get the chance.

"This is going to be fun," Mari purrs.

She channels magic in her hands, and with blood-chains, she shackles Anders, trapping him in the blood of the little girl he failed to save. Physically she is weak, but her magic is as powerful as any magister's. Anders is aware of his only advantage, that he is a warden. Justice is the one reason he might be stronger, and even then, just barely. She lifts him off the floor using the chains of blood, and casts him into the wall. He can feel the room shake violently at his impact, and his vision blurs as his ears are ringing. When his senses are restored, she is in front of him. He hears the tearing of fabric as she rips open his robes. Her metal-tipped finger scratches down his bare chest, and he breathes out in pain. Her hand then reaches into the magic surrounding him, and her fingers are tipped with blood. She licks the blood and he has to turn away in disgust.

"Mmm... she tastes good, want to try?" she goads him, with a grin.

She knows this provokes him. He knows she wants him to give in to the spirit which they both destroyed. They both hold responsibility for him who is now slowly becoming a demon...Justice. Another life shattered in her lust for power. He gives himself over to the demon willingly. He knows she should die, and he is not strong enough to do it himself. But Vengeance is. His blue flame ignites the room, and red and blue flames swirl in battle. He breaks the shackles, but she shows no fear. Her eyes are full of anticipation and desire, as that perverted grin twists her lips. He throws her against the pillar, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"**Why?!**" he demands.

"Power!" she flares, her eyes darkening further.

"**I will make you see!**" he howls.

"Then punish me," she coos, leaning forward to bite his lower lip.

Ignoring the pain, he casts a paralyzing glyph on the pillar above her and forces her arms into it. He growls, hisses and groans, his breathing heavy, and his eyes burning with an anger more intense than anything he has ever experienced. She laughs as he does, not in the least intimidated. This infuriates him. He wants her to be terrified of him, desperately holding on to the hope that fear will change her. He rips the clothes from her body, knowing how it must hurt. But she screams with pleasure. She is dripping from desire, and he is aroused and disgusted at the same time. Her body, thin and shapeless, looks even more sickly than the completely drained corpse of the little girl, whose blood soaks the floor. He twists the nipples of Hawke's minuscule peaks, and she cries out in pleasure. Frustrated, he slaps her, but she reacts the same. She looks at him with those cold eyes, and that depraved grin remains. He feels sick to his stomach, finding that he can't look at her. Forcefully, he turns her around and presses her against the pillar. She laughs. He releases his arousal and pierces her violently. Again and again, she cries out, never screaming the surrender he wants to hear. Anger burning in him, he bites down on her neck and she hisses. Now he tastes it, the blood of his kind... the blood of mages and innocents. Every one of her victims are in that small stain of blood caressing his tongue. He weeps as his movements become gentle, and the blue flame retreats.

"Why can't I make you see?" he whimpers against her shoulder blade.

"Why does it matter?" she hisses, clearly indignant at his change in demeanour.

"Then I would at least have you by my side before this is over," he sobs.

* * *

When Anders awoke, he was covered in sweat, his pillow wet from tears and his body hardened by desire. He hated dreaming about her, and the dreams were always the same. Nightmarish and erotic dreams, disturbing and lustful. For as long as he had known her, she had haunted his sleep and he would wake aching for her. He hated her, but not as much as he hated himself for failing her. He feared that should he not be able to save her, his hopes for freeing the mages were doomed as well.

He shuddered, realising he had kicked off his blanket in his unrest. Afraid to fall asleep, he got up and began to get dressed. From the vague light entering the windows, he knew it was early morning. The clinic had not been very busy lately, much to Anders' dismay. He needed the distraction. It had been six weeks since Hawke's accident, and he hadn't seen her since. He had kept his distance, feeling an unbearable heartache, and his mind spinning out of control when he tried to comprehend what had happened. Mira had not been to see him, but Merrill had been by frequently to give him updates. Mira had no symptoms or discomforts after the incident, so there had been no reason for her to come. Merrill and Varric told him that Mira had continued to surprise them. She was kind, generous and appreciative. She still seemed to have knowledge only of people and places, but no memories of them. According to Merrill, her magic training was going well. As Anders suspected, it had come very easily to her and she had begun to remember things on her own.

Anders walked outside to light the lantern, when he saw a basket outside his door. He smiled. For weeks, baskets of food and reagents for potions had arrived outside his door. There were no notes and no one had mentioned it. It had just appeared one week and showed up once a week ever since. He looked up and around the refugee camps. Lirene, who was helping the Ferelden refugees, had received a generous donation about a month ago. This had improved the lot of many. Many of them had also suddenly acquired jobs, most of them in the Bone Pit; a mine owned by a man called Hubert. That was part of the reason his clinic had been so quiet lately. He normally also had a lot of cases from the Bone Pit, as the working conditions were horrible, but that number had also steadily decreased.

He took a deep breath and picked up the basket before walking back inside. He smiled as he emptied it. It was filled with bread, cheese, dried meat, fruit and wine, but the most exciting item was always on the bottom...a homemade pie, and that day, it was cherry. He had wondered who this benefactor could be, but as they clearly wanted to remain anonymous, he hadn't looked into it. It had to be someone who knew him well, since it contained all his favourites. He had for the longest time thought it to be Varric, but the dwarf had given him a confused look, when he had asked him. Instead, Anders had chosen to place a bouquet of wildflowers and his manifesto in the basket one night, before the 'refill' would arrive. He had contemplated staying up one night to watch who it was, but it was the same night he met with people from the mage underground. And that was much more important.

He sighed with pleasure as he took a piece of pie. It was heavenly, the way it melted on his tongue, caressing it with a sweet flavour. It was sad to admit, but those pies were the highlights of his week. He was still smiling a little when he began making salves and potions.

* * *

"Hi Anders!" he heard Merrill say happily.

Anders looked up from his desk and noticed that it was now evening. Once again, he had lost himself in his work and lost track of time. It had been a long time since he had been able to do that. "That pie must have worked miracles" his mind quipped happily. He saw Merrill in the door, coming towards him with a stack of books in her hands. When she nearly dropped them, Anders got up to help her.

"Hello, Merrill. What are you doing with all these?" he chuckled.

"Oh, I have been studying Hawke's... ehm... condition? Anyway, I found something interesting I wanted you to see," she replied, placing the books on his desk.

"Merrill, haven't I told you to be careful? You have no idea what you're messing with," he sighed.

"I do. I have it all under control. Besides, I have only been reading. It's not like that is going to turn me into an abomination," she stated with offense.

"Why are you even studying this? Are you trying to undo it?" Anders asked, not really certain how he felt about it.

"By the creators, no! Hawke was mean, nothing like Hawke at all... ehm... what I mean is..." she tried to get her words together.

"I know what you mean," he smirked.

"Good. I get so confused, myself. But as I was saying, I think what Hawke was trying to do was to increase her powers using these crystals," she said, pulling three crystals from her pocket.

"I thought you said you were only reading," Anders said sternly.

"I was. These have lost their power. And are you going to hear me out, or keep questioning everything I do?" she challenged.

"I'm sorry, go on," he sighed.

"Well, she would have had to assign the three gifts she wanted, such as having more mana in her veins, or heightened awareness about something. The crystals would then change her in a way," she explained.

"What do you mean, 'change her'?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you, for instance, wanted to be a more powerful warrior, it would give you larger muscles," she continued, while browsing through the pages to find the right one.

"Then, what in the Maker's name did she ask for?" he wondered, leaning forward on the desk to read the paragraph Merrill pointed at.

"I don't know," she admitted reluctantly.

"Merrill, I want you to answer me honestly. Why did you look into this?" he asked, turning towards her.

Merrill was obsessed with restoring a mirror that belonged to her people, long ago. She had already turned to blood magic and dealt with a demon, and Anders feared that she might try to recreate the ritual Hawke had used. Merrill looked at little ashamed, but answered.

"I wanted to know, in case Hawke should return to her old self," she said in a low voice.

Anders forced himself to smile, and put a hand on Merrill's shoulder.

"You really like Mira, don't you?" he smiled.

"Oh, yes. Anders, she is so nice. When she remembered the mine she shares with Hubert, she made him give all the miners a raise and new equipment," Merrill said brightly.

"She did?" he asked with astonishment.

"Yes. She even went all the way out to my clan and back, just to get me a present. It's a wooden Hallah, and it's beautiful. I think she really feels terrible, but she doesn't talk much about it. I think she is ashamed and doesn't feel it right to burden any of us with it. She so wants to try and make up for what she did, but there are so many who won't let her," she explained, her voice turning sad for Mira's rejection.

"Well, it's not like she can just buy things and make it all go away," Anders grumbled.

"You know, sometimes I wonder if it is even right to say she did it. She is nothing like she once was, and has no memory of it," she mused.

"I don't know..." he replied, and sat down.

"Anders, why haven't you been by to see her? You haven't even been to the Hanged Man in weeks," she said with concern.

"It was just... a lot to take in," he sighed.

"She really hurt you, didn't she?... Just come with me to the Hanged Man. It would do you good. Hawke might not even be there," Merrill suggested.

"I don't know," he replied, rubbing his face.

"Don't make me go get Varric, because I will," she threatened, with a smile.

"Alright, alright," Anders chuckled.

He got up and followed Merrill out the door. As he locked the clinic doors, he began to feel apprehensive. He was trembling on the inside and he could feel his palms getting sweaty.

* * *

When he entered the Hanged Man, his eyes searched through the crowd to look for any sign of Hawke. He honestly didn't know if he was hoping she was there, or not. His emotions were always confused and in contradiction when it came to her. He had never been afraid of her before, but he had to admit that since her accident, he had begun to fear her. He sighed when he didn't see her and couldn't determine if he felt relief or disappointment. Merrill had already crossed the main room and was on her way up to Varric's suite. Anders followed, but as he walked up the stairs, he bumped into someone walking down.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, simultaneously with the woman.

"Anders..." she smiled.

He looked at her for a moment. The woman was none other than Hawke, but he barely recognized her. Her black hair, hanging loose, reached almost to her waist. It looked smooth, light and soft. Her eyes had turned from icy blue to a deep blue-green, making them seem warmer. She had gained weight '_in all the right places'_, his mind noted, as he took in the curves of her waist, hips and breasts. Her skin was still pale, but now she had a little colour in her cheeks and the tattoo on her face was gone. In addition, she wore a long red dress with a black corset on top, which revealed her shoulders and a little cleavage. Mari Hawke would never have worn something like that. Mira looked the same, and yet completely different. She was breathtaking and vibrant, and his heart stopped for a moment.

"Hawke! You... I-I hardly recognized you," he finally managed to reply.

She smiled shyly, turning her gaze towards the ground, self-consciously running her fingers through her hair and adjusting her dress.

"Yes, I know. I was feeling weary of people recognizing me and fearing me. I couldn't buy bread without the merchant thinking I was going to rip his head off," she explained, and though she looked shy, Anders could easily hear the pain in her voice.

"So Isabella took me to the Black Emporium and I made a few changes," she continued with a smile.

Anders' heart sank at the mention of Isabella. "_What did you expect? That she would suddenly love you just because her mind was destroyed?" his_ mind scoffed. He could have hit himself for being so foolish. Why would her preference in lovers have changed, just because she had become a better person? He had given himself false hope. Just seeing her had been enough. He feared he would never stop longing for a woman he could never have. She looked up at him curiously.

"So... ehm... what do you think? Can I sneak past the refugees now, without them running for the hills?" she chuckled.

This made his heart beat again. She was actually asking for his opinion. He had never thought that would matter to her.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, before realising he had spoken.

She looked at him, startled, and a full blown blush formed on her cheeks. Realising what he had said, he felt his own cheeks growing hot. What had happened to the man he used to be? The charmer who could make women swoon, and had no care for those who didn't. He cleared his throat.

"I mean, I'm sure they won't notice, unless they look closely," he replied with a small smile.

"Good," she sighed with relief.

"Well, I was going for a refill. I'll be right back," she smiled, and walked towards the bar.

Anders leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he was getting weary of being in this emotional whirlpool. If it continued, he was certain he would go mad. She was a distraction no matter what he did, and neither he nor Justice knew what to do about it. All attempts to distance himself from her and his feelings, seemed to be futile. Realising that Mira was about to return, he hurried into Varric's suite, where they all greeted him. Everyone but Sebastian, that is, who was probably in the Chantry. Varric gestured for Anders to come over, and Anders took the seat next to him.

"Been awhile, Blondie. The coterie been bothering you again?" Varric asked, pretending to be indifferent.

Anders looked at him with a crooked grin.

"If you've got something to say, just spit it out," Varric grinned.

"Are you sure you want to encourage me? I might be about to confess my undying love," Anders teased.

"I get that a lot. So what's on your mind?"

"I just realized it's been a while since any of the gangs in the Undercity came to my door."

"They're busy people. Places to go, throats to cut. Maybe you've slipped their minds."

"Right. The apostate running the free clinic in the sewers. Easy to forget. You didn't have anything to do with this?" Anders replied, his voice filled with sarcasm.

"You must have me confused with someone else! I'm just a businessman and a storyteller," Varric retorted, and Anders chuckled.

"It was me. I told them I would eat them if they harassed you," he heard Mira's voice say, from his back.

He turned his head to see her standing right behind him, with two pitchers of ale and a smile on her face. After a moment, she gave him an apologetic look.

"I guess it's still too soon for me to joke about that," she smiled, and placed one pitcher in front of Anders and one in front of Varric.

"Just the fact that you are joking is a miracle, Waffles." Varric smiled and patted the seat next to him, as a gesture for her to sit down.

"Waffles? Really?" Anders asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, she is sweet, warm, and she can actually make waffles," Varric chuckled.

"You... cook?" Anders asked with disbelief.

"A little. You did say I needed to gain weight," Mira shrugged, with a small smile.

Anders chuckled a little and their eyes locked for the briefest moment. The way she smiled at him made his heart beat without any effort at all. For so long, everything, even something as natural as a heartbeat, seemed like a struggle. But her smile made him feel that a part of him had been freed. The moment was cut short when Isabella practically demanded Hawke's attention. Mira moved to the seat by Isabella and though he tried, Anders couldn't make out their conversation.

"I found out who has been bringing you those baskets," Varric said, a little proudly.

Reluctantly, Anders tore his gaze from Mira and looked at Varric.

"And?"

Varric discreetly looked in Mira's direction. Anders' jaw dropped, and he turned back to Varric.

"Hawke? Why?" he blurted out.

"This has been hard on her, Blondie. If I had written this story, I would say that someone has replaced the Hawke we knew, with a long lost twin sister. She has made it her mission to help everyone she can, and she has been pressing herself hard with her magic lessons so she can begin to take jobs protecting people," Varric explained.

"But why not just tell me?" Anders asked, dumbfounded.

"The same reason she doesn't tell the refugees that she is the one donating money to Lirene," Varric shrugged, taking a sip of his ale.

"Did she tell you this?" Anders asked, looking at her briefly.

"No, I had to go through almost all my contacts to find out she did it. I don't think this is about redeeming her name or trying to be liked. She honestly wants to make amends, but doesn't want any of the credit. I don't know what went wrong, or right, that day, but thank the ancestors it did." Varric sighed and lifted his mug in a toast.

Anders looked at Mira again and began to wonder what else she had been doing. When Merrill told him about the gift Mira had given her, he assumed it was an attempt to buy her friendship. But that would not explain why she had been giving him food and supplies without letting him know. Perhaps she had bought that hallah for Merrill simply to cheer her up. He felt ashamed for doubting her, but this was Hawke. The person he had known would never do anything that did not benefit her in some way. But the woman sitting at the other end of the table was someone completely different. He saw Isabella lean in and whisper something in Mira's ear that made her giggle, and he felt jealousy rise up through his chest. He said goodbye to Varric and Merrill and walked out the door unnoticed.

Outside the Hanged Man, he leaned against the wall, drew a painful breath and tried to place the reason for his aching heart.

"Anders?" Mira said softly from behind him.

He turned to face her, and she looked at him with a small smile and concern in her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"Look, I know that this has been very difficult for you and for that, I am sorry. I have missed your company, but I understand you needed time," she said softly.

"I... you actually missed me?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes. I admit I can't even imagine how painful this is for you...how difficult it must be, being around me. I know you loved her – me - who I used to be," she replied, looking into his eyes with true worry.

"W-what makes you think I love – loved you – her?" Anders stuttered.

"You are the only one who mourns her," she clarified, softly touching his arm to comfort him.

Anders was at a loss for words as this woman was looking at him so patiently. The moonlight was reflected on her skin and hair, and a faint breeze blew her hair slightly. She looked at him with such understanding that keeping his balance seemed to require all his strength. The words she spoke nearly knocked out all air in his lungs. He cleared his throat.

"I don't know what to say," he confessed.

"Anders, you need to tell me where to go from here. I would like us to be friends, but it is up to you," she replied with such patience and kindness, that he felt a sudden desire to embrace her.

He swallowed.

"I would like us to be friends. How is your training coming along?" he asked, trying to ignore how hard his heart was pounding.

"Very well. According to Merrill, I have regained almost all of my abilities except the blood magic. I don't want anything to do with it. But I need a new specialty instead, so I have trained some force magic. I also wondered if you would teach me some minor healing spells? I want my magic to do some good, but if you don't have time, I understand," she requested sweetly.

"No, I would like to teach you. How about we start in my clinic the day after tomorrow?" he smiled, trying to remain calm.

"Sounds perfect. Thank you, Anders. Get home safely," she smiled and walked away.

On the way back to his clinic, Anders came to the conclusion that he was definitely losing his mind, not to mention his heart.


	5. Chapter 5 Answerability

**Answerability**

Anders walked after her with determined steps, trying to catch up to her. He was furious with her. He knew she was unstable, but he had never figured she would be such a hypocrite. And she walked as calmly as though nothing had happened. As if she were both the Queen of Antiva and Empress of Orlais. He finally caught up to her and had to struggle with everything in him, not to grab her arm and shake her.

"How could you do that? How could you send that boy to the circle?" he demanded.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't," Mari replied calmly.

"Is there a reason? **Is there a reason?!**" he howled.

"That boy was a mage, and you sent him to the circle like it was nothing. Do you know what they might do to him?" he hissed angrily, barely able to contain himself.

"Oh, be a good little boy and shut up," she said with annoyance.

"I will **not**! You hypocrite! You are a mage! How can you not see? You turn on your own kind to serve the templars!" he roared, and it echoed through the cliffs of the Wounded Coast.

She turned towards him, her eyes burning with anger. She pushed him into the rocks and he could feel his mana singing in his veins. He would gladly kill her.

"Why do you think I did it?" she hissed with a self-satisfied smirk. "I turned over that boy so I don't end up in the Gallows myself. Now the templars **owe me**!"

"You would sell out an innocent for personal gain?" he heard himself saying, but he already knew the answer.

She laughed at him and walked away.

"You are weak, Abomination. Your compassion will be your doom," she continued as they walked, her voice oddly hollow.

"Why do you care? He was just a knife-ear anyway," she continued, her voice cold as ever.

"His name is Feynriel!" Anders rebuked with disgust.

"As if it matters what he is called."

"You heartless **bitch!** Is there no one you care for but yourself?" he railed, his voice filled with venom.

Again she laughed. That heartless, hollow laugh that sent shivers down his spine.

"And why should I? The only thing that matters is survival, and to survive I need power. Everything else has no meaning and people care as little for me as I do them," she dismissed, her voice still hollow, unreadable.

"How can you say that? You had a father who risked everything to keep you free. You have a mother and brother who still take risks..." he was caught off guard when suddenly, he felt her grip around his throat.

"Listen carefully, because I am only going to say this once. I will kill **anyone** to keep myself free!" The purr of her voice ascended into a growl.

* * *

Anders cursed himself for the memory of the first time he had seen Hawke turn on one of her own, but it was not to be the last. It was a day he would never forget. Then his thoughts drifted to Mira. She knew that he had loved Mari, knew that despite everything, he mourned her in his own way. He wondered how she could have known, and that day with Fenris, he had felt a burning sensation in his chest at the memory. She had mentioned something which the elf had no idea that she knew. He turned, and the cot creaked. He had been restless for hours, and sleep had continued to elude him for a while now. Nightmares of her and Darkspawn haunted him, making his attempts to sleep just as exhausting as it was to be awake. Frustrated, he got out of bed and began attending to his duties.

Hours passed and as morning finally arrived, Anders found himself becoming more anxious. Hawke would be here for her first healing lessons. He didn't have the heart to tell her, but he felt unsure that she would have an aptitude for healing magic. He had seen the ferocity of her magic, and now that she remembered so much of it, he believed it might conflict with learning the art of healing. Truth be told, he was unnerved at the prospect of spending time with her. In her eyes and behaviour, he had seen a small glimpse of hope that she had become what his heart had always yearned that she should be. As long as he kept her at a distance he could maintain that small hope, whereas being near her could prove the opposite. Both he and Justice were frustrated by the unrest she stirred in their shared heart. She obsessed and distracted them, even as before. The obsession with trying to change her... save her. And when in the same room with her, a mixture of anger and desire prevented him from focusing on anything but her. If she had changed as much as it appeared, he had no idea of what that could mean. Maker knew his life and mind were already a mess, but put her into the equation...and it would become disastrous. At least, that was Justice's belief.

After tending to the first patient of the day, he looked out the wide open door of the clinic. After years on the run and his time as a warden, Anders had learned to pay attention even to those who wished to remain unseen. And so he saw, walking along the streets of Darktown towards his clinic, a womanly figure coming closer. She wore a cape with a concealing hood, and managed to walk by the refugees barely noticed. Her head was held low while she avoided eye contact. As she approached, he leaned against the door frame with a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to become a rogue, Hawke?" he teased.

She looked up, a little surprised. Half her face was covered by her long ebony hair, hiding her under its shadow. She was clearly concerned that people might recognize her. He might have felt sorry for her, had the memories of her harassing the refugees, not been so fresh in his mind. She gave him a little smile, making all his thoughts fade away. He could still not get used to her seeming sincere.

"No, I just didn't want to upset anyone. Am I too early?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as though she were afraid of being heard, as well.

"No. It's fine. Come in," he offered.

Inside, she looked about his patients hesitantly, before removing her cloak and placing it neatly on a chair. She seemed to continue the effort of hiding her facial features beneath her loose hair. She looked healthier, Anders noticed. She wore black trousers, black boots and a purple tunic, laced to embrace her curves, but not too tightly. She was still thin, too thin, but she was steadily gaining weight. Anders was surprised to find himself relieved by this. She folded back her sleeves as she walked towards him.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"I thought I would try to teach you a cleansing spell for use on minor wounds. Come and I'll show you," he offered, and they walked over to a woman with a burned hand.

"Hello Elsa. This is Mira, a student of mine. I'm going to show her how to cleanse your wound and bandage it," he smiled kindly.

"Alright," Elsa replied meekly.

He had Elsa sit down and gestured for Mira to stand next to him. He found himself staring at her, as she tucked some of her long hair behind her ear while examining the hand. Her hair looked so soft, and he was certain he could run his fingers through it effortlessly. Remembering himself, he took Elsa's hand and gestured to the burned palm.

"Alright, first we clean the wound with cold water to remove any dirt or any other remnants. After, we use a minor cleansing spell to remove any infection. Then we treat it with a salve before we bandage it. Got it?" he instructed, and Mira nodded in response.

After cleaning the wound, he took Mira's hand and placed it over the burned palm. He found that he actually had to concentrate for his breathing to settle, as he held Mira's wrist. Even more so, when she leaned against him, unconsciously it seemed, as he was instructing her.

"Alright, you let your hand hover over the area like this. Close your eyes and concentrate as you imagine white light running through you and towards your own palm," he instructed.

Mira closed her eyes and sooner than he had expected, her hand emanated a soft white glow.

"Good, then try to focus on her hand, and you should feel the heat coming from her hand without seeing it. Do you sense anything?" he asked, trying to ignore the feeling of her magic tingling on the fingertips of his hand as he held her wrist.

"It feels very warm, almost burning in some areas," Mira replied, as if questioning herself.

"That's it. Now imagine the light sinking into those burning areas and cooling them."

His words had hardly left his lips when Mira's hand began glowing, and he could see her magic sinking into the woman's burned hand. Granted, it was a simple spell, but it surprised him how easily it came to her. Mari would never have been able to do it. Healing magic took patience and empathy, and Mari had had neither. Mira opened her eyes as her hand stopped glowing and smiled up at him brightly.

"I did it," she said, part questioning.

"You did it," he confirmed with a chuckle.

After instructing her in the salves to use and showing her where the bandages were kept, Anders let Mira treat all the minor injuries, consulting him whenever necessary. Midday had just become afternoon as the last two patients were receiving treatment from Mira. A grandfather had brought his grandson, who had been scraped and bruised after falling through some of Darktown's rotten stairs. It was so strange to see her being caring and attentive. He even found himself believing that Mira's smile could melt all the snow in the Frostback Mountains and flood Orzammar. Anders smiled as he saw her finish treating the boy's injuries and give him a small kiss on his cheek.

"There, all better. Now remember to be careful," Mira said kindly.

"Yes, messere," the boy replied.

"It's hardly fair that he is the only one who gets a kiss. I was injured as well," the old man jested.

This earned a heartfelt chuckle from Mira, and Anders found himself chuckling as well. He had never before experienced them both finding something amusing. Mira kissed the old man's cheek with a whimsical grin.

"There, now you are equals," she smiled brightly.

The old man laughed and took his grandson's hand, as they left the clinic. Mira began to clean up after herself and he was surprised by how careful she was.

"Is there anything else you need me to do, Anders?" she asked, putting the salve back into the cupboard.

"Why so eager to leave me?" he smirked.

"I'm going to the Gallows to pick up some supplies and to see if I remember something," she stated, seemingly calm, but he did not catch her sadness at the last.

"Are you crazy? You can't just go waltzing into the Gallows alone," he objected, his voice filled with concern.

"Oh, yes I can. You seem to forget that I am the terror of Kirkwall. I can go wherever I please," she smirked mischievously.

He shook his head.

"How can you joke about something like that?" he asked, a little offended.

Her expression faded into something emotionless. Almost like Mari had done many times, but in Mira's eyes there was pain. In the depths of her eyes were tears, which were never released ... and maybe never absent either.

"Because if I don't, I think I might cry," she replied solemnly, and turned toward the doors.

_"You fool!"_ Justice hissed in his mind, and he completely agreed. She had been so happy the moment before, and he had ruined it by speaking as if she were Mari. This setback sent his head spinning with a fearsome dread that Mira could be held responsible for her former actions. Though why the spirit was so concerned, he didn't know. He watched her walk out the door while wrapping herself in her cloak once more.

"Wait! I'm coming with you," Anders insisted, and picked up his staff.

"Are you sure that is a good idea? If the templars catch you..." she objected with concern.

"They won't, when I'm with you," he smiled, trying to make the statement seem less harsh. In his heart however, there was a blaze of rage for all the blood that had been spilled to provide that safety.

"Besides, I'm not letting you walk into the Gallows alone," he continued, as they walked out the door.

"Oh, I won't be alone," she replied with a regretful sigh.

Anders looked down at her with a confused expression once he had closed the doors, but she had already begun walking and didn't meet his gaze.

They had only just reached Lowtown when they ran into Varric and Fenris, who offered to come with them. Mira smiled and thanked them, before they all walked toward the docks. Fenris and Varric fell a little behind, leaving Anders alone with Mira. Feeling the silence becoming uncomfortable, he tried desperately to find a subject to discuss.

"So, it looks like you and Varric are getting on well. It seems he trusts you, and Fenris does too, which is quite an achievement," Anders noted with a smile.

"Things are not always what they seem," she smiled a little solemnly.

Anders felt a little offended on Varric's behalf. Perhaps she was not as good as he had earlier assumed her to be.

"What do you mean?" he asked, unable to keep his voice free of resentment.

To his surprise, she took his arm and pulled him closer to her as they walked.

"Do you think it is a coincidence that I ran into those two?" she said in a low voice.

"It could be," he replied, not quite sure he liked where she was going with this.

"That 'coincidence' has been happening every day, since my accident. Varric has urchins watch me and report back to him. I know it is not for my protection, but for others'. I understand why he does it, but it is going to take a long time to earn his trust, if ever possible," she explained, and Anders nodded with understanding.

"Furthermore, if you look back discreetly you will notice that Fenris' hands keep constantly opening and closing. He is always on edge and ready for battle when I'm around. The same goes for Varric, who every few minutes will reach back of his shoulder, to make sure Bianca is not to tightly bound to him, in case he needs it," she continued.

Anders pulled away and knelt down, pretending to tie one of the laces on his boot. She was right. Fenris' expressions were always hard to read, but both of his arms and especially his hands, were tight. He was clearly agitated. Varric always fondled his crossbow needlessly often, but even Anders had to admit that it was way more often than usual. Apparently he was not the only one who was anxious around Mira. They had never been this tense around her before. But now they felt tempted to lower their guard in her presence, and that made them all increasingly uneasy and nervous. Anders stood up and walked alongside her again.

"I don't blame them, you know... In a way it's like having my own templar escort," she jested, and the way she said it was far too flippant for Anders' liking.

"You should not jest about something like that," he corrected.

"You are right. It is quite tragic that it is needed," she replied, and walked ahead.

* * *

Anders always felt nervous in the Gallows. The memories it brought forth of his time in the circle were an ache in his chest, forever. The tranquil were nightmares that terrified him, the sight of templars infuriated him, and then as always, he must force himself through extra effort to keep Justice' thoughts from overwhelming him. He shouldn't be there, but then again when he was with Hawke, it didn't matter. His stomach turned in on itself when the templars greeted her with respect. Even more, when she just smiled and walked along as if it meant nothing. If only she could remember how many lives she had taken and destroyed, feel the pain and anguish she had caused. After trading with one of the merchants however, something happened that made Anders regret ever thinking such thoughts. As they walked through the Gallows courtyard, Mira suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. She turned pale and for a moment, Anders actually feared she had stopped breathing. His blood ran cold as she uttered in a whisper,

"Feynriel..."

Her hand went to her mouth and she shut her eyes, as if to prevent herself from crying. Taking a deep trembling breath, she walked across the courtyard and towards the boy. Varric and Fenris were standing by one of the merchants, looking at weapons, so Anders was the only one to follow. Feynriel was standing calmly tending a store, but it was not the wares that had caught her attention. On his forehead, he bore the brand of the Chantry's sun. The boy had been made tranquil shortly after she had turned him in, and Anders' blood was boiling. But Mira of course, remembered nothing of this until that moment. When they approached, Feynriel turned and looked at Mira with that completely vacant expression.

"Hello, Feynriel. How are you?" Mira asked softly.

Anders was grinding his teeth. What kind of question was that to ask of someone who had no emotion? And she had done this. Did she actually expect that nothing of importance had happened to him? That she could just have a pleasant chat with the boy?

"Hello Hawke. I am not harmed, in pain or any physical distress," Feynriel replied, his voice hollow and the even tone caused Anders to shudder.

He remembered meeting a boy who was passionate and bright, who wanted nothing more than to master his gifts and use them for good. Now that boy had become a templar servant with a free will that was based purely on logic. And that logic commonly amounted only to "the templars give us food and a roof over our heads, so aiding them is the most beneficial thing to do". That frequently involved satisfying the many needs the templars. Mira reached for Feynriel's cheek and touched it softly, as she stroked her thumb along his cheekbone.

"They don't harm you, do they? The templars I mean," she asked with a sad smile and tear-filled eyes.

"No, as long as I tend to my duties I am not harmed," he replied.

"That's good," she stated.

"Forgive me," Anders heard her whisper, and then she nearly ran from the Gallows.

Varric caught sight of her leaving the Gallows and gave Anders a questioning look. Anders shrugged before they all pursued her to the harbour, but saw no sign of her.

"What happened?" Fenris demanded.

"She saw Feynriel and suddenly she was... I don't know... grief struck?" Anders replied hesitantly.

"You expect us to believe that Hawke got upset merely from seeing a tranquil?" Fenris huffed.

"She is not herself, Broody," Varric replied.

"No, she isn't... What did you say to her? Did you spout your propaganda at her all day?" Fenris accused.

"I don't see how that is any of your business! But if you must know; no, I didn't!" Anders hissed.

"Gentlemen, you can tear each other to shreds later. Right now, we have bigger problems," Varric reminded them.

"We better hurry. Who knows what memories this might have triggered?" Anders impressed, and they began searching the area.

* * *

Exhausted did not begin to describe how the three men felt, with dusk slowly approaching. They had been searching all of Kirkwall for Mira and found absolutely nothing. No one remembered seeing her. They were now making their way to Hightown, when they met Bodahn, who ran towards them, completely out of breath.

"Master Anders, thank the ancestors I found you," Bodahn panted.

"What is it? Is Hawke hurt?" Anders asked, his heart leaping to his throat.

"No, but she is terribly upset. She arrived at the estate about half an hour ago and she has barricaded herself in the study. She is not acting like herself. I was hoping you might be able to calm her down," Bodahn explained.

"We'll go right now," Anders replied, and they followed the dwarf back to the estate.

Entering the living room, they walked towards the study and Anders opened the door. Books were scattered all around and Mira was pacing back and forth, going through several books at once. She seemed desperate and her movements were erratic. Frustrated, she let out a cry as she slammed a book shut. Anders had heard her cry out like that before, but never with the pain it contained at that moment.

"Hawke," Fenris said almost carefully, and she turned to look at them.

"I'm sorry for running off like that, but I don't have time right now," she replied, and began browsing through another book.

"What are you doing, Waffles?" Varric asked gently.

"I'm trying to find a way to undo tranquillity," she answered, her voice slightly trembling.

Anders took a deep breath. That was why she had run off. She felt guilt for what had happened to Feynriel. Justice thought it right that she felt so much pain and honoured her slightly for seeking penance. Anders' emotions were divided. He felt sorry for her experiencing such pain, but the memory of Karl made his blood boil. And she was responsible. It was only right that she should suffer guilt. Wasn't it?

"It isn't something you can undo once it's done," Anders huffed, crossing his arms.

"No, there must be a cure," she said heatedly, discarding a book and reaching for another.

"Can you cure a beheading? The dreams of tranquil mages are severed. There is nothing left of them to fix," Anders affirmed, struggling to keep his voice even.

"Just because there hasn't yet been found a cure, doesn't mean there isn't one!" she almost growled.

"It's better that the boy is tranquil. Think of the danger he posed," Fenris replied, as if trying to comfort.

"**No!** Of anyone made tranquil, it should be **me!** There is nothing fair in him being locked up, when a monster like me is free to roam the streets. And why? Because I just happened to make friends with the right people?" she cried, her voice trembling from rage and her eyes brimming with tears.

"Waffles, I think you need a drink," Varric offered.

"**No!** I **have** to find a cure! There has to be one! There just **has** to be!" she erupted, still looking through books as if in panic.

Anders felt a sudden surge of deep sympathy flood through him. She was not just feeling guilty, she was heartbroken... shattered, feeling the same desperation that had plagued him for so long. For once, his own heart ached to see her in so much pain, even if it could be justified. He walked closer to her, carefully stepping over the books scattered around the floor. He stood behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Mira..." he said in a soothing voice.

"T-there has to be one..." she breathed, before falling to her knees and resting her arms on the table.

She cradled her face on her arms and began to sob violently. Anders was stunned and looked at Varric and Fenris, whose faces were just as surprised. Anders shook his head in the hope that it might clear his thoughts, before turning to Varric. Unspoken words passed between the mage and dwarf, and Varric and Fenris left, closing the door behind them . Anders knelt down next to Mira and placed his hand on her back. He had no words to comfort her and even if he did, Justice might prevent him from uttering them. This was justice. She could feel the pain and cry the tears that were denied to Feynriel. She turned towards him suddenly and looked into his eyes.

"Who was Karl?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

Anders felt as if his heartstrings were being torn for the painful memory of a friend he could not save. He took a deep breath.

"He was a friend of mine. A very good friend, who was made tranquil in an attempt to capture me," he replied, trying to keep hidden the moisture filling his eyes.

"D-did I...?" she asked vaguely, her expression as fearful as he had ever seen it.

"No, you had nothing to do with it," he assured, his voice being more soothing than he had intended.

She leaned forward, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck as she began sobbing again. Anders looked up, hoping to keep his tears from falling as the memory of Karl refused to be dismissed.

* * *

_Around them on the Chantry floor, templars lay scattered, slaughtered like the butchers they were. Anders turned to see his friend, and the sunbrand on his forehead made Anders' heart break._

_"Anders, what did you do? It's like you brought a piece of the fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like," Karl asked, his emotions plain for everyone to see._

_"He is an abomination. Who would have thought it?" Hawke chuckled darkly, walking up next to him._

_"You are wrong, but not far wrong. I have some unique circumstances, but Karl, what happened?" Anders asked, his voice barely even._

_"The templars found a letter I was writing you. They are far more vigilant here than in Ferelden," Karl explained._

_"This pathetic creature betrayed you. Are you just going to let that pass?" Hawke asked, her voice calm, her smirk bloodthirsty._

_"He wasn't himself! Being made tranquil takes away everything human inside. He was incapable of caring for me anymore," Anders replied, barely able to see clearly from tears._

_"You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the colour, all the music gone from this world. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I will never be whole again," Karl mourned._

_Before Anders realised what was happening, a dagger was plunged into Karl's throat and he collapsed to the ground._

_"Wish granted!" Hawke chuckled darkly._

_"Karl, no!" Anders exclaimed, falling to his knees and gathering his friend in his arms._

_"Stop your weeping. It's pathetic!" Hawke hissed._

_"He was my friend! I loved him and you didn't even give me the chance to say goodbye!" Anders cried out, tears falling freely._

_Hawke walked over and crouched before them. She reached for Karl's beard and moved his jaw up and down._

_"Goodbye," she said, faking a male voice._

_"There, you've said goodbye, now pull yourself together. Abomination or not, those templars will kill you if you are on your own. Or if you prefer to share lover-boy's fate, I would gladly provide it," she purred._

_Anders had no words as he looked at the woman with horror, her icy eyes devoid of any feeling. She dragged the dagger from Karl's throat and stood up._

_"A shame," she pronounced, and turned away._

* * *

Anders tightened his fists as the devastating emotion took over his being. His anger had fuelled him completely from that night on. He looked down at the woman weeping against his neck and shoulder. He couldn't believe that this was the same woman. He found himself wrapping his arms around her and taking in her scent of vanilla. He ran his fingers through her hair, and if not for the pain in his heart, he would have shuddered at the sensation.

"I will find a way to undo it. If it takes a lifetime, I will find a way to make this right," Mira vowed in a whisper, and for a moment Anders allowed himself to believe that she meant it.

* * *

_Author's note: I just wanted to thank everyone for all the amazing reviews. I'm really excited about writing this story thanks to your let me knowing what you think so I can take this in the right direction:)_

_And thanks to Flint and Feather for her amazingly quick beta reading, which is the reason I can update so often._


	6. Chapter 6 Similarities

**Similarities**

Anders awoke sitting on the floor leaned up against the wall, as a wet snout gently nudged his chin. He had fallen asleep while holding Mira in his embrace the night before. They had both desperately needed someone in whom to take comfort for a little while, and he felt sorry for her. Everyone she knew was frightened of her, and all others, terrified. Her closest acquaintances mistrusted and watched her like any templar would a malificar. In addition, she had barely any memories, but kept receiving information and stories about horrors she couldn't remember committing. He had thought that she was coping, but the night before, he realised how much she was holding back. She had no one to lean on and seemed reluctant to share her fears and worries with anyone, not wanting to burden them. Isolation and loneliness from being so feared were all too well known to Anders.

It took him a moment to realise that it was Mongrel craving his attention, but he also found himself covered with a blanket. A pair of brown puppy eyes looked intently at him while Mongrel wagged his tail. It was uplifting to see the dog not cowering in fear for once. Anders smiled and ruffled the dog's ears. He looked around, but saw no immediate sign of Mira.

"Where is Hawke, boy?" Anders asked the dog in a low voice.

Mongrel turned his head towards the upper level of the study, where Mira was sitting browsing through a book.

"She hasn't slept, has she?" Anders sighed, and Mongrel gave a pitiful whine.

Anders stood up and from the windows above, he could see it was early morning. He walked up the stairs and looked at Mira still deeply occupied with the book she was reading. It was obvious she was tired and her eyes were red, but he couldn't tell if this was from crying or lack of sleep. Probably both, if he had to guess. He walked over next to her and she looked up at him.

"Good morning. How did you sleep? I considered moving you, but you seemed so peaceful... I gave you a blanket," she smiled, but her eyes remained sad.

"I'm a little sore, but thank you for the blanket. What are you reading?" he asked, and hesitantly she pulled back so he could see the book.

He sighed as he saw it was a book about the fade. She had obviously not given up on the idea of finding a way to undo tranquillity.

"Don't sigh at me like that," she snapped.

"You can't undo tranquillity, just as I can't make an arm grow back after it has been cut off," he said softly.

"I never figured you for one to blindly take the Chantry at their word," she mocked and turned back to the book.

Anders could feel anger slowly burning in him. A part of him tried to remind that she was exhausted and heartbroken, that she was incapable of being reasonable at this moment and was desperately clinging onto the hope that she could make up for some of the horrors she had caused. _"There is a certain irony to this,"_ Justice noted, and Anders had to agree. He had never expected to see his own desperation and grief so profoundly reflected in another.

"Mira..." he tried again.

"No, Anders. If you don't believe in what I'm doing, then I really can't be bothered. This is more important and I will not turn my back on it, simply because you have accepted something that should be questioned," she spat and stood up, walking towards a bookcase.

Anders found himself gritting his teeth as his blood began to simmer. She was pushing every single one of his buttons and he was already angry with her. Had he been more level headed, he would have noticed that this anger was entirely different from any before.

"Well, at least **some** things don't change!" he derided, as he threw his hands up in the air.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she hissed back.

"You might have changed, but you are still infuriating, stubborn, unreasonable, and have a foul temper," he growled.

"That's rich, coming from you!" she gave a short mocking laugh.

"Why is it you can't say anything without me wanting to twist your neck?" he accused.

"What would you have me do, Anders? Maybe the templars are right. If I had been locked up as I should have been, then all of this wouldn't have happened. People wouldn't have suffered," she said while tears streamed down her cheeks.

"**You can't be serious!**" Anders exclaimed, mortified.

"Why not?! Do you know how many people I have killed, Anders? Three hundred and eighty seven since I arrived in Kirkwall, and fifty of them were innocents. I even recorded in my journal every time I took a life. That is how insane I was! I should go to the templars and have them make me tranquil right now! Then I won't be forced to deal with all this guilt," she cried, and tried to walk past him.

He grabbed her arm as she walked by and she tried to wiggle free.

"Let me **go**!" she demanded.

"No," he said simply.

"Then I'll just drag you with me!" she growled and started pulling at him, Anders barely holding his ground.

"You are being irrational!"

"With the anger tantrums you throw, you are hardly one to judge!" she snapped.

"Alright, that's **it!**"

Anders pulled her close and put his hand to her forehead, casting a small sleep spell. She was so dismayed and fatigued that having a conversation with her was near impossible. Mira lost footing. Anders caught her and lifted her up into his arms.

"Hate you..." she murmured sleepily.

"No you don't," Anders chuckled.

This made him pause, and he looked down at the woman falling asleep in his arms. Had Mari been the one to speak those words, he would have believed her. But Mira... she was angry, though not specifically with him. Yet even as she uttered those words, he found them not harsh or cold. And he believed... no... he **knew** that she didn't hate him. She might have shown a hint of annoyance, and after all he did make her sleep to end the... argument. This was another word to consider. They had fought times beyond counting, throwing the most horrible insults at each other, and their arguments were never simple. Normally he would be filled with adrenalin and rage for hours and even days after, but this time was different, like a quick burst of rain and thunder on a heated summer day. Something that cleared the air between them, but was forgotten as soon as it ended. It was not draining or devastating. It was... a relief. And as he carried her to her bedroom, he realised that in a way, it had liberated him. He had vented some of the tension within him and his chest felt less heavy.

But regardless, the words she had uttered did send a chill down his spine and made him feel sick. Mari would never have considered turning herself in to the circle. Mari didn't care whether the circle was right or wrong, and had assured only her own freedom. But Mira had considered it, even justified it to herself. He placed her on the bed, feeling fear in his heart. Would this Hawke actually support the chantry and the circle? Had the actions of her alter ego made her believe that every mage was a Mari waiting to emerge? So much was still unknown about her, and maybe Anders had deluded himself into believing that he knew her. After removing her boots and loosening the laces of her tunic, he pulled the blanket over her. He turned to the nightstand and reached for the book. It was Malcolm's diary.

_Malcolm's diary, year 912 of the Dragon Age_

_Today I became the proud father of a little boy and girl, Carver and Bethany. They are so beautiful. Mari has been watching them, but she is still too young to understand. I love my Mari, but sometimes I can't help but feel that there is something odd about her. Sometimes it seems that she can't connect to the things or people around her and it is rare for her to show emotion. Some days, she actually reminds me of the tranquil in the circle and it sends shivers down my spine. In the beginning, I didn't think it important, but all the toys she has been given are broken. Dolls with their heads, legs and arms torn off. When I asked her what had happened, she actually gave me the answer, "She didn't do what I wanted. She deserved to die". Maybe it's nothing, maybe I am overreacting, but something about it makes me nervous._

Anders put it back down and sighed,

"Oh, Mira..."

He gave her a soft kiss on her cheek and left the estate.

* * *

Three days passed without Anders hearing anything from Mira. But as the basket still arrived as always, he was beginning to wonder if maybe, he had crossed a line. During the last few days he had allowed himself to hope that they were alike, that he would finally have an ally and his struggle against the Chantry would not seem as hopeless. Why was everything so complicated? Previously there had been two directives in his life; find ways to escape the tower, and avoid capture by the templars. He sighed, rubbing his temple and began unpacking the basket as usual, but this time he found a letter in it. Impatiently, he tore it open.

"_Dear Anders,_

_I want to thank you for staying with me the other night. You had no reason to concern yourself for my wellbeing, but you did anyway. Which only makes me more ashamed of my behaviour the following morning. I hope you understand that my anger was not at you, but rather at myself. You deserved none of my anger and I must ask for your forgiveness. _

_If you are not too cross with me, I wondered if you would meet me at my estate this morning. Merrill and Varric believe that I need some combat training to refresh my memory before I take up any of my duties. _

_Again, I am sorry for my behaviour, and thank you._

_Mira Hawke_"

Anders smiled as he read the letter and his heart fluttered when he read the salutation over and over. "Dear Anders", a figure of speech, was a courtesy when writing to someone, but it made his pulse quicken all the same. For a moment he hesitated and pondered if he could leave the clinic for the day, but activity had become very quiet since Hawke's unexpected charity. Not bothering to finish the task of unpacking the basket, he reached for his staff and made his way to Hightown.

When he turned the last corner, he saw Aveline standing outside Hawke's door, apparently debating with herself whether or not to knock. Seeing Aveline being indecisive was almost like Fenris praising a mage; practically unheard of. Anders smiled. Aveline and he had had a rough beginning. He had made a joke about her deceased templar husband, not knowing just how recently she had lost him. In return, he distrusted her for being married to a templar. But as they accompanied Hawke on more and more quests, they had found their morals to be very alike. They would both protect an innocent with their lives, and given the number of innocents Hawke had tried to kill when in their presence, they found themselves supporting each other. Aveline and he now had a relationship based on respect rather than conformity of opinions. As she saw him she gave him a weary look, which served to transform his smile into a good natured chuckle.

"So, are you ready to put a leash on our little menace?" Anders teased.

"It would be easier to leash a High Dragon," she replied with a chuckle, but then gave him a more serious look.

"Do you believe this? This new reformed Hawke?" she asked with concern.

"Actually, I do. I didn't at first, but after spending some time with her, I am beginning to," he returned calmly.

Aveline merely shrugged and nodded.

"You don't, I take it."

"It doesn't feel right. In the three and a half years I have known her, she has been nothing but a ruthless killer. This whole sweet and compliant attitude makes me uncomfortable. I keep waiting for something inside her to snap," she said, with a little shudder that shook her stability.

Just then they heard Hawke yell something from inside the estate.

"Speaking of the Crows summons them," Anders managed to say, before they ran in without bothering to knock.

Aveline and Anders burst through the door, only to stop dead in their tracks as they entered the living room. Sandal was swinging back and forth from the giant chandelier, while laughing happily and singing some dwarven song in between. Beneath it stood Hawke, yelling at him and making wide gestures to the ceiling. Anders and Aveline looked at each other before they burst out laughing.

"Sandal, get down from there. **NOW!**" Hawke demanded.

This was hardly a difference from before. For some reason, the dwarf had never feared Hawke and she had maintained a respectful deference to the boy.

"What's the matter Hawke? Afraid your precious chandelier will fall down?" Aveline mocked slightly.

Hawke turned, looking very flustered and worried.

"Damn the chandelier! It's his neck that worries me!" she exclaimed, sounding oddly helpless.

Aveline looked at Anders with astonishment.

"If I were devout I would claim the Maker has suddenly returned to us," Aveline whispered, and Anders chuckled.

"**This is serious**! Bodahn is out and I don't know what to do. Anders, help!" Hawke pleaded in a pitiful whine that made him laugh.

He cleared his throat and walked over next to her.

"Come down Sandal. I think you have worried Hawke long enough," Anders chuckled, looking up.

"Anders!" Sandal cheered.

As he let go of the chandelier in midflight, Hawke gave a yelp of fear, then drew a relieved breath as Sandal landed safely on the floor. Sandal ran to give Anders a hug.

"Enchantment?" he asked with excitement.

"Not today," Anders replied, and Sandal smiled before running off again.

Hawke turned to Anders.

"Thank you for that. You seem to know the people of this household better than I do," she smiled kindly.

"That is hardly astonishing, considering how often he had to come here for Leandra," Aveline said drily.

Hawke's smile instantly faded and Anders gave Aveline a stern look. Aveline closed her eyes and nodded, conceding that her remark had been uncalled for.

"I wasn't a very good daughter, or friend..." Hawke admitted as she turned away, not meeting any of their gazes.

Anders was about to reach out for her, but through the door came Sebastian and Fenris.

"Shall we get going?" Fenris suggested. "Varric, Isabella and Merrill are meeting us in Lowtown."

* * *

They had just reached the outskirts of the city, but would be going closer to Sunder Mount. Sparring inside the city would attract too much attention, especially considering that three in the company were apostates. Granted, Hawke couldn't be touched, but should anyone sense that something was different about her, that security might not last. Sebastian was being his usual cheerful self, and it annoyed Anders. They had all seen so much horror, but he seemed to be walking on a cloud, content to ignore the misery at his feet. "_Just like any other noble_," his mind scoffed. Sebastian walked next to Hawke and smiled at her. He was the only one except for Merrill, who had no reservations about this change in Hawke.

"It is gratifying to see how much you have changed, Hawke," Sebastian began.

"Thank you, though a change shouldn't have been necessary in the first place," Hawke replied solemnly with a faint smile caressing her lips.

"The Maker works in mysterious ways. You have been given an opportunity to better yourself and to seek redemption for all that you have done," Sebastian said with a smile.

"There are some injustices that can never be righted, and even if they could, I don't think a lifetime would be enough to make up for what I did," she replied, remorse penetrating her voice.

"The Maker will forgive you if you ask for it," Sebastian tried to comfort.

"His forgiveness means little, when many of those I harmed are no longer able to forgive me," she said quietly.

Anders swallowed as he realised she was right. Most of her victims were dead. Even if the families should forgive her, she would never be able to help soothe the victims themselves.

"Surely you don't believe that," Sebastian urged with astonishment.

Hawke whirled towards him with that all too well known anger flaring in her eyes, which made Sebastian take a step back. She grabbed him by his collar. Some things might be different about her, but those eyes, no longer cold as ice, still held a fury that would make the most terrifying dark spawn pause. All of them held their breaths, as that look usually came accompanied by death. Unconsciously, they reached for their weapons.

"**Your** Maker let a monster like me roam free for years and torment innocents, while those sworn to carry out his work allowed it! And not only did they allow it, but they punished people who have done far less than I! I will try and right some of the wrongs I've done, but not to lessen my own guilt or to gain redemption. And please keep to yourself your assumptions that I merely seek the Makers forgiveness!" she hissed in a deadly low voice and pushed him, before she walked ahead with hurried steps.

Sebastian swallowed and readjusted his armour, while the others gathered around him. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps it is too early to presume that she has changed," Sebastian stated, trying to get his breathing under control.

"Choir boy, if she wasn't changed, you would now be a sack of bones on the ground," Varric noted and continued to follow Hawke.

"She is still a grump though," Isabella chimed in almost happily, as they followed.

Aveline turned to look at Anders, and they both quietly chuckled in relief.

They finally arrived at the place chosen for training. It was near Sunder Mount, a half day's walk from Kirkwall. It was in a ravine surrounded by shrubbery, near a small river. They had used this place before, as they would spar here once a week. They had persevered to improve their skills, so they would be able to keep up with Hawke as her power grew. They had all known that she was using blood magic to enhance her power, but in what manner, they never found out. Eventually it had become a struggle to keep up, and Fenris and Aveline had suggested that they should spar. Anders looked around at them all. It was ironic, how they were forced to work together. All because of Hawke's bloodlust, he had become friends with the most unlikely people. Anders took his staff and made a large circle on the ground, while the others removed their packs and prepared themselves. Mira entered the ring first.

"So I must assume that all of you have a desire to punch me, so, want to draw straws to see who goes first?" she asked with amusement, though Anders suspected she was not as calm as she sounded.

"I don't want to hurt you," Merrill replied.

And at that response, Mira walked over to give the elf a big hug and a small kiss on her cheek, before returning to the ring.

"I'll go," Fenris said calmly, and joined Mira in the ring.

Aveline stepped forward.

"Alright, the first one who's out of the ring or surrenders, loses. This is to be clean, so no maiming, no blows to the head, no lethal attacks and no blood magic," Aveline instructed.

Both Fenris and Mira nodded to acknowledge. They stepped away from each other to far sides of the ring. The nervousness with which Mira twirled her staff, was a sight that had never before been seen. Normally, Anders would have thought it a lack of confidence, but an inner intuition told him it was something else completely. Unsurprisingly, Fenris was the first to make a move. He charged towards her and swung his sword with skilled control. In battle, Fenris was calm and steady. Anders had never heard the elf say anything in passion or actually roar. He always seemed detached somehow, and this trait had no doubt been needed when he was ordered to kill hundreds at his old masters' whim. Hawke hit his arm with a spell, giving her the opportunity to move away from him. It hardly affected him however, and quickly he regained his focus. He twirled his sword towards her and hit her in the back with the handgrip, making her stumble.

"You are not trying," he stated calmly.

Stone rising from the ground held Fenris in place as she escaped from his reach once more. She cast lightning at him, but he dodged away. Anders concluded Fenris was right. She wasn't trying. He charged at her again, but she struck him back with a force spell. Fenris shook his head, and as she was about to channel another spell, he seized upon the delay to get closer to her. Unleashing a second force spell, she knocked the sword from his hand, but he maintained his course. His tattoos began glowing as he sprang with the pounce of a tiger, to crush her down onto the ground. He straddled her and held his glowing hand right against the skin of her chest near her heart.

"You are not trying," he stated again.

She evaded his eyes, turning her head to the side.

"You would have been dead now! Or am I not a worthy enough competitor for the mighty Hawke?" he goaded with a sneer.

"I don't want to hurt you!" she exclaimed with a second's look, only to turn her head again.

"I would rather die than harm you," she said in a whisper, as a tear rolled from her eye.

For a moment Fenris looked stunned, but then he stopped glowing and his gaze gentled. He put one finger under her chin and made her look at him. Anders felt nauseated, seeing the intimacy of this gesture and the softness of her gaze at the elf. As her breathing deepened, from what he judged to be attraction, his own became heavier with jealousy. A chilling thought entered his mind, making his discomfort increase tenfold. What if she and the elf agreed on the circle? From what she had said so far, there was nothing to prove otherwise, with the exception of her resolve to find a way to undo tranquillity, but that could merely have been inspired by her own guilt. Fenris smiled fondly at her, an expression Anders had never seen him give anyone. Anders looked away, desperately holding onto what little control he had.

"You claim that you want to protect people, right?" Fenris asked.

"With all my heart," she breathed.

"Then you must protect yourself. Protect yourself like you would them. Though admirable, your restraint won't help you while defending others," he said tenderly.

"I'm afraid. What if I'm weak?" she said, in a voice so soft it forced Anders to look at them again.

Her eyes were filled with tears and never wavered from Fenris' gaze.

"You are not weak," Fenris replied with certainty.

"What happened to sending me to the circle?" she teased.

"There are many mages who are too weak to handle their power. I, however, do not believe you to be one of them," he smiled, and Anders heard himself give a grunt of annoyance.

"You can practically hear the air sizzling with the tension between them," Anders heard Isabella whisper to Varric, and he found himself biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Alright, get off me then, so I can prove you right," Mira smiled mischievously, and Fenris chuckled as he helped her up.

Mira threw her staff outside the circle.

"You are going to need it, Hawke," Anders warned.

"No I won't," she replied with confidence, and winked at him.

Fenris and Mira again took their places and once again Fenris charged. She moved away with a twirl and trapped him in a paralyzing glyph she had created behind him. She calmly walked to the other end of the ring with an all too familiar confidence. Remnants of Mari began to show in Mira's behaviour, but without that coldness and hatred in her eyes. Instead there was a mischief, and something overbearing. She stood calmly waiting for the spell to wear off and Anders assumed she was holding back. Fenris must have assumed the same, for as he was released he began swinging his sword in elegant and deadly movements. As he stabbed however, Mira's hands were covered in stone and she grabbed the sword by the blade. She twisted it from his hands, spun it to grab the handle and swung it to his throat. She stopped when the blade touched his neck, nearly drawing blood.

"Now, don't go losing your head over a girl, Fenris," she giggled, and Anders roared with laughter.

When Fenris huffed his annoyance, the others joined in the laughter and Mira gave him an apologetic look as she handed back his sword. She turned to them and smiled.

"So who is next? Now, I wonder what it takes to land a Grey Warden?" she teased, with a hint of seduction in her tone, looking at Anders with an irresistible mischief.

"Oh, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into, sweetheart," Anders chuckled darkly and walked into the ring.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you are sweet talking me," she giggled.

As before, they took their places, but Mira still refused her staff. As the match began, Anders started channelling his magic, but was surprised to see Mira running towards him. She only just avoided his frost spell, but her offensive caught him off guard and within seconds, she was in front of him. She grabbed hold of his staff and tried to pull it from his grasp.

"Oh, no you don't," Anders chuckled, and twirled.

Suddenly, he was pressing her back against his chest, trapping her across her front with a two-handed grip of his staff. Her own hands pushed on the weapon to keep it from crushing her, as she breathed heavily with the effort. He had never been so close to her, and her soft, loose hair carried a scent of vanilla that made his head spin. Suddenly, she pulled to one side and tripped him with his own staff. The air shot from his lungs as he hit the ground, but he still had to roll away as Mira punched his staff into the ground by his head. He reached to grab her ankle and pulled her off balance as well. He quickly straddled her as she lay on the ground, and hit her with a small frost spell before holding her arms in place.

"Do you yield?" he smirked.

"Never!" she exclaimed with defiance, as she giggled.

He let a little electricity dance over his fingertips and placed them at her ribs. He chuckled darkly as he began tickling her and she squirmed while laughing out loud. He had never heard anything so beautiful in his life, as something happened that he had never thought possible... Hawke looked happy.

"I yield!" she cried with tears streaming down her face.

"And was what the lesson for today?" he grinned.

"Bring a staff?" she flirted.

He bent forward and lowered his lips to her ear, ghosting her lobe.

"Never tease a mage," he whispered seductively, before quickly getting off her and helping her to her feet.

He revelled in the blush of her cheeks as she stood up and could barely meet his gaze. He tried to ignore the effect she'd had on him while she lay beneath him, squirming and giggling. He had dreamt of it many times, but never like that. For a moment he found himself wishing that his dreams of desire would change into the wonder of seeing her as happy as this. The rest of the afternoon, they spent sparring with each other, and Anders' enjoyment was deep and true.


	7. Chapter 7 Rectitude

**Rectitude**

Anders was sitting in the Hanged Man with Varric, Hawke, Isabella and Fenris, drinking ale and of course, Anders was losing at cards. Well, he had won a little money from Hawke, but he believed she actually **let** him win. He groaned when he lost another hand and leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms.

"No wonder you are not married. If you had a wife to come home to, she would be pissed with the amount you're losing," Hawke giggled mischievously, and Anders scowled in return.

"Yes, because the demon residing inside his head has nothing to do with it," Fenris remarked drily.

"Oh, not this again! Can't you two just have a cockfight outside and get it over with?" Isabella groaned.

"That is not a bad idea, Rivaini. And I could earn a profit by taking bets," Varric chimed in.

"Perhaps **then** Anders would actually have a shot at getting some of his money back," Hawke laughed.

"I don't remember asking any of you for financial advice," Anders replied, trying very hard not to show an amused smirk.

"You don't have to. I don't think 'Renegade Mage' has a bright future. Or any retirement plan," Varric joined in, and gave a sigh before abandoning his cards as well.

As the others continued to play, Anders watched Mira. He pondered her hair, how she always wore it loose and never bound it up in any way. He noticed her using it to hide her face, and especially in daylight, made sure that her features were half covered. There were rare occasions, like now, when she would sweep one side behind her ear, and he would see her lovely face. Since her accident a few months ago, he had noticed that it had become more serene. He hadn't realised before, just how tense Mari had been. The others were finally beginning to relax around Mira, and with each passing day there seemed to be more light in her eyes. He'd also noticed that she always seemed tired and when she thought no one saw, would look mournful and awfully sad. Suddenly, the door swung open with such a force that they all jumped in their seats. Through the door came Aveline, red-faced and breathing heavily.

"Great Ancestors!" Varric exclaimed in surprise.

"Anders! Fenris! It finally happened. But we need to hurry!" Aveline urged.

Anders knew exactly what she was talking about and reached for his staff. Fenris jumped from his seat and grabbed his sword.

"We are going to need help," Anders stated, placing his staff on his back.

"Alright, but with what?" Isabella asked, getting up.

"We'll tell you on the way," Aveline hurried.

"Come on, Waffles. Time for some practice." Varric smiled at Mira and reached for his crossbow.

"Alright, but where are we going?" Hawke asked.

"We are going to right one of your wrongs," Fenris stated calmly while walking out the door.

Hawke's face turned pale, as guilt and confusion dominated her expression. Anders smiled softly and reached for her hand. She gave him a grateful smile and took his hand to follow him. They hurried out of the Hanged Man and as they walked towards the edge of the city, Anders explained what was going on.

* * *

**Almost three years earlier**

They were walking inside a dark cave filled with spiders, where several demons and skeletons had been raised by the man they were sent to capture. The man was an escaped prisoner, and from the looks of it, a mage. Normally, Anders would have objected to this, but the man was a vicious killer who had abducted, tortured and killed many elven children. And because the victims were 'mere' elves, the magistrates or guard (this was before Aveline had become Captain) had ignored the crimes. It was an injustice, and Anders was disgusted by it. As they walked through the corridors they found an elven girl, who looked at them with hopeful eyes. Mari walked over next to her, most likely because she couldn't avoid crossing her path.

"Where's the killer?" Hawke demanded.

"Kelder is back there," the girl gestured.

"Get out of my way, knife-ear," Mari spat, pushing her aside.

Anders stepped forward to steady the girl.

"Are you Lia?" he asked softly, and she nodded.

"Your father is waiting outside. We have cleared the path, so there should be no danger," Anders smiled in an attempt to comfort.

The girl nodded again, before giving Hawke a fearful look and running for the entrance. At this moment, Anders was as angry with Hawke as with the man they were hunting. But at least he would not survive this day, of that Anders was sure. They entered a part of the cave where a man in noble's clothing was seated on the floor.

"Kelder?" Anders guessed.

"I knew my father would send someone eventually," Kelder said, surprisingly calm.

"I'm here to bring you in to the Magistrate," Hawke stated, her voice devoid of any emotion.

"He didn't tell you, did he? The magistrate is my father. He has tried so hard to keep me – and what I've done – hidden away," Kelder replied as he got up.

"He's known? And he has been protecting you this whole time?" Anders exclaimed, horrified.

"Yes, yes... the magistrate is corrupt. Can we get going? I want to get back," Mari snapped, more annoyed with the delay than affected by the incidents.

"It's the demons. They tell me to do it! That elf girl, she had no right to be so beautiful. The demon said she needed to be punished," Kelder explained.

"And the circle let you loose because they found no demon! This is priceless!" Hawke laughed manically.

"And he goes around killing children, while blaming demons that aren't there. He's just mad!" Carver seethed with disbelief.

"**Real** mages suffer enough without charlatans like you making it worse!" Anders hissed.

"I can't stop. I have tried so many times. Please, you have to kill me. There is no other way!" Kelder pleaded desperately.

"There! See? He wants to die. Problem solved." Carver concluded, angrily.

"It is the only way to solve this. I am disgusted with both of them – he and his father," Aveline agreed.

Hawke seemed not to react to any of their words, but pulled out her dagger and moved behind Kelder, grabbing his neck with her metal glove.

"Move!" she commanded, and pushed him in the direction of the door.

"What are you doing?" Carver exclaimed.

"We are taking him to the magistrate," Hawke calmly stated, and walked towards the door.

"You can't be serious! I have seen you kill your own kind for crimes less than this, but this one you will let walk free?" Anders roared.

"Oh, do shut up, Abomination. The others had no power or money. His father **does,**" she hissed and walked off.

Anders could sense Justice roaring inside him, but he felt Aveline's hand on his arm.

"I know how you feel, Anders, but getting yourself killed helps no one. I promise you I will keep an eye on him. When something comes up, you will be the first to know," Aveline vowed. Anders nodded, trying to keep the desire for uncontrolled vengeance at bay.

* * *

"... later that night Aveline and I were planning on how best to monitor Kelder, should he strike again. She, using the guards and I, the mage underground. Fenris walked in on us and agreed to aid us as well," Anders explained as they walked.

"How many has he killed since then?" Mira asked, pale, with emotionless expression.

"None, thank the Maker. He escaped just earlier today, but he has already captured another child. That is why we have to hurry," Aveline continued to explain.

"How do we know where he is?" Isabella asked.

"This." Anders held up a glass vial. "Aveline and I had a phylactery made, without anyone's knowledge."

"Are we there yet? Bianca is dying to say hello to this guy," Varric panted.

"You should get longer legs," Fenris smirked.

"Stick to brooding, elf!" Varric grumbled.

They reached the outskirts of the city near the exit of a sewer tunnel. It was hidden by shrubbery and due to the smell, it was unlikely that anyone would come near. It was a clever hiding place that no one would willingly enter.

"In here," Anders said in a low voice.

"Ugh! What is it with mages and the sewers?" Aveline asked with disgust, holding her nose.

"I imagine they find it fitting," Fenris said, a little snidely.

Anders was about to speak his annoyance, but Mira interrupted.

"Hey! I take offence to that!" Her smirk feigned offence, much to Anders' dismay, as his was real.

"Do you now?" Fenris returned.

"Indeed, Serah. One more smart comment and I will let every apostate know that your house is vacant," she teased.

"Then I will have both kinds of vermin; rats **and** mages," he chuckled.

Anders felt as if were about to explode, while Mira was biting her lips trying not to laugh. How could she laugh about something like that? Had she no idea how bad her kind had it? That any mage could treat their struggles with so little regard was sickening. He had thought Mira would be different, but if this continued he might hate her as much as he did Mari.

"Perhaps if people accepted us, we wouldn't have to hide in sewage!" Anders spat.

"Eyes on the prize, people. Maker! And **I'm **accused of lacking subtlety," Isabella muttered.

As they ventured through the sewers, Anders found himself grateful that they were so many. The number of undead risen by that man was truly alarming. As they fought, he noticed that Mira didn't use her staff at all. Her magic seemed to be running freely through her and she was casting spells at an impressive rate. And her control was almost uncanny. Fire being a spell she used the most, was often difficult to control even though it was easy to conjure. It had almost a life of its own and directing it required a lot of mental focus. But Mira did it with ease, and he wondered if she could shape it if she tried. Anders cast a frost spell on the rage demon in front of him, being unaware of three skeletons at his back, until fire emerged directly from Mira's fingertips. As she burned the skeletons, he noted her flame intensifying to blue and then to white, and he had to turn away from the heat. When the skeletons had collapsed, she took quick steps towards him and let her eyes roam his body with concern, while holding his shoulders. He was all too aware of her hands, which seemed to burn on his skin more than had her fire. She looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, attentive.

"I'm fine," he breathed, and it took all of his willpower not for reach out for her.

"Good..." she whispered breathlessly.

His eyes caught her red lips. They were parted, moist and looked soft and warm. He could feel her breath caressing his chin and he felt himself leaning forward so slowly, he hardly noticed. Her breathing quickened as he came closer... A cry ringing through the tunnels immediately caught their attention, and without a second thought for what had nearly happened, they ran through the tunnels with their companions right behind them. In a dead end tunnel they found Kelder, and on the floor kneeling before him was a little elven girl, whom Anders recognized as being one of the refugees. Kelder must have found her in Dark town. Mira thrust her hand forward and her force magic blew Kelder backwards into the wall. Anders ran directly to the girl, while their companions dispatched the skeletons standing guard.

"Healer!" the girl said happily and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"Is she injured?" Mira asked with concern.

Anders looked at the little girl and let some of his healing magic soothe her skin.

"No, just frightened," Anders replied.

Anders smiled as Mira closed her eyes and took a deep breath of relief. It still warmed his heart each time she acted this way. Considering how she used to be, made the comparison even more extraordinary. Her kindness, concern and loving nature made her seem almost celestial. The fighting stopped as the last of the undeads were killed. Mira then turned to Kelder, and Anders saw true pity in her eyes.

"Please kill me... please, **please,** kill me," Kelder begged.

"I promised I would never again kill anyone with my magic," Mira said softly

Fenris stepped up next to Mira.

"He sees the truth of it. Allow me to grant his wish if you will not," Fenris said softly, standing much closer to her than Anders would like.

Mira took a deep breath and reached for the dagger in her belt. She closed her eyes as she raised it, and Anders could see the blade quiver. He had seen her draw that blade so many times, but never with hesitation and caution. Never had seen her to have a moment's doubt that she would use it. Anders saw that Mira was trembling, as did Fenris. Kelder got to his feet and bowed his head, awaiting the blade. Long moments passed and eventually Fenris sighed. The glow of his lyrium tattoos filled the room as he thrust his hand through Kelder's chest, and into his heart, at the same instant as Mira's dagger strike. So close did the blade enter, that Fenris felt it scrape his knuckles. Mira gasped at her unintentioned mistake, but as the dagger dropped away, her hand was now trapped together with Fenris' inside Kelder's chest. Fenris and Mira breathed heavily as their eyes locked. Anders' mouth tasted sour and bitter with jealousy, as if his saliva had turned to poison. Mira and Fenris both turned their gaze to their joined hands and slowly withdrew them. When Fenris stopped glowing, Mira's hand was still firmly placed in his, and Kelder fell to the ground. Mira dropped to her knees and picked Kelder up in her arms.

"Thank you..." Kelder gurgled, the words spattering blood from his mouth, with his last breath.

"I'm so sorry there was no help to be found," Mira soothed, and kissed his forehead before closing his eyes.

Anders' and Fenris' gaze met momentarily. Anders saw how flushed the elf looked, and his own heart threatened to implode. Mira stood up and didn't meet anyone's eyes, as sorrow masked her face. Isabella walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Kitten. This does not make you a cruel person, but a protector," Isabella said softly and gestured to the little girl in Anders' arms.

Mira smiled and went to Anders, who stood up with the girl, cradling her. Mira stroked the little girl's hair fondly.

"Would you like us to take you home?" Mira asked softly.

"Yes, please," the girl replied ever so politely, and Mira and Anders looked at each other with a smile.

* * *

In Dark town, they had just returned the girl to her parents and were now making their way back to the Hanged Man.

"Oh, I'm looking forward to telling this to the magistrate," Aveline chuckled sadly.

"Not winning any popularity contests with the nobles?" Varric grinned.

"Or with the seneschal, but it doesn't matter. I have more important things to concern myself with than the opinion of the nobles," Aveline replied.

"Well, we managed to achieve something good today, at least," Anders smiled, and let his hand caress Mira's back for the briefest moment.

"We did, didn't we..." Mira agreed, and looked at him with a soft smile.

"And we got loot!" Isabella exclaimed happily.

"Had he remained in the circle, this would never have happened," Fenris stated tiredly.

"He was one man. You can't hold all mages responsible for that," Anders objected.

"He was one symptom of a disease," Fenris replied drily.

"So now we are a disease? Tell me, you ever going to stop harping on the mages here?" Anders asked with annoyance

"No," Fenris replied.

"They aren't what you saw in Tevinter," Anders argued heatedly.

"The moment they are free, mages will make themselves magisters," Fenris sneered.

"They're slaves! You should want to help them," Anders entreated passionately

"I don't," Fenris said angrily.

"I can't believe this. Hawke, help me make him see," Anders encouraged.

"I can't make him believe something he doesn't want to," Mira replied calmly.

"So you do believe all mages should be free," Fenris questioned calmly.

"Are you two actually asking me for my opinion?" she asked.

"Why is that surprising?" Anders asked.

"It seems to me you are more interested in me telling you that you are right, than you are in actually hearing what I have to say. Which in the end renders my opinion completely moot," she stated with a knowing look.

"You know Waffles is right," Varric smirked.

Anders and Fenris groaned in unison.

"So you are telling me you have no opinion on the matter?" Anders pressed.

"No, I said you weren't interested in it," Mira stated.

Anders stopped dead in his tracks. Her words had hit his heart with such force that it might have been bruised. He honestly didn't know if it was that she believed her opinion didn't matter to him, or because she was evading the issue – and sometimes even seemed to agree with Fenris.

"Oh, this is boring! Come, I have seen this amazing hat shop in Low town!" Isabella interjected, grabbing Mira's arm and pulling her with haste through Low town.

Anders sighed, part with longing and part annoyance. The more time he spent with her, the more he began to care. And still, she managed to constantly confuse him and seemed like an ongoing mystery that needed to be solved. And though he found himself intrigued by this, he didn't have time for such a distraction. The number of tranquil in the Gallows was slowly increasing, and things weren't going well with the mage underground. A part of him figured he should spend his time with those who actually did agree with him, and not with a woman he wasn't sure of. But as he lay in bed that night, he was still unable to take his mind off her. He needed to know if she was with him or against him. He needed to know if he could convince **this **Hawke to join his cause. Needed to know that years of wishing she would see his side had not been in vain. He wanted to be certain that his desire for Hawke to change had actually come true. He had to know if he was still allowed to hope.


	8. Chapter 8 Bestial

**Bestial**

All was in darkness, with only the moonlight making way through the heavy clouds. He was standing by a lakebed, looking out over the gloomy waters. He knew she was close by. He could hear her like a bone chilling whisper travelling with the breeze. There was no sound, as everything had fled and now the forest was awaiting her. The queen who left nothing but misery and agony in her wake. When he heard the sound of rustling leaves, he knew that she was coming from behind, but he didn't turn. His heart could not bear to see her drenched in the blood of those he had sworn to protect. He felt her fingers on the back of his neck and her nails grazing him as they travelled to his throat, while she with slow steps, prowled to stand in front of him. She was naked, but her body was obscured by her coat of blood. Her icy eyes stared at him as a devious smirk formed on her lips.

"Abomination," she cooed.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

He desperately tried to ignore all the feelings rising in his chest, all of those wrong feelings he harboured, disgusting in the minds of both he and Justice. Still, he felt himself aching for her. She was like poison tearing at his already frail mind, stealing away his sanity by degrees. How could he love, and hate a person this much?

"Don't you appreciate how I am dressed for you? Only fresh mage blood for **you**," she purred.

Anders closed his eyes as tears fell, his heart grieving for the lives lost. The winds seemed to carry the sound of their screams like a lament.

"Now, don't look so put out. I turned most of them over to the templars," she grinned.

"You are a mage! How can you not see that what you are doing is wrong?" he asked, brokenhearted.

"You know how I feel. It's pointless to say more." Her voice chilled him, as she turned towards the water.

"You defy the circle yourself, yet condemn the rest of your kind to it. I **will** make you see! I swear if I convince no one else in Thedas, at least I will have you by my side before this is over," he almost pleaded, his eyes filled with tears.

"Your foolish notions will be your undoing," she scolded.

He grabbed her shoulders so tightly that she flinched from the pain, and forced her to turn.

"I don't know whether to **kiss** you or **kill** you!" he growled.

"Always so indecisive," she laughed mockingly.

Anders gave one manic cry of fury, before he kissed her forcibly. Struggling to get free, Mari backed towards the lake, and Anders felt the cold water slowly rising. When Mari finally managed to push herself away, she fell backwards into the water. Even in the moonlight, Anders saw the murky water turning to blood red. Only the emanation of his faint blue glow, reflected upon the surface. Hawke emerged, washed clean of blood, and Anders realised that it was Mira who had risen from the water and now shivered with cold. Anders stepped forward and pulled her to him.

"Oh, Maker, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered into her damp hair.

"Anders... all the things I did... I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"It's alright. I know you wouldn't have done it. All that matters is that I love you. Nothing else matters," he soothed.

_"You have given into sloth and desire! Justice must be served!" _Justice boomed in his head.

"**No! Justice, don't!**" Anders screamed, but it was too late.

The blue glow on the water intensified, and Anders felt his control slipping. Mira pulled away with fear in her eyes, tears streaming down her face. Unable to command his own body, Anders was forced to see his own hands grab Mira's throat and begin to strangle her.

"Please, Anders... I ... love you..." she gasped.

Again and again, Anders tried to reason with Justice. He knew he had failed when he felt her neck snap and the blood from her mouth warmed his cold hands. Justice relinquished his control, and Anders was left standing with Mira's lifeless body in his arms. He shattered the night with his rages of grief as he buried his face in the neck of his deceased love.

* * *

Anders awakened with the last of his cries sounding through the clinic. His face was wet with tears and his heart, anguished. He found himself sobbing violently at the memory of Mira's lifeless body in his arms. He had come to love **her,** and not because she was a shadow of Mari. But the thought of him hurting her was too much to bear. Infinitely worse was that the fate envisioned in his dream could happen in reality. There was no doubt in his mind that Justice would kill Mari if given the chance. The possibility that the spirit could not tell them apart when overcome with vengeance, was too real a danger to ignore. So he covered himself with his blanket and nestled his face in his pillow, as he sank deeper into depression.

* * *

Unable to fall asleep after his nightmare, Anders had been prowling his clinic most of the night, like a beast. There were two forces inside him, waging war. One was his mind, reasoning Mira being a distraction, and arguing that the path he had chosen to take was not one he would force upon her. It was telling him that she deserved more than he could give her in terms of being a lover or husband. Arguing that if he truly loved her, he would focus on making a world where she could live free. Making every manifesto a love letter dedicated to her. The revolution would be a love declaration that would resonate across Thedas for her alone. He could not give her a family and a home himself, but by sacrificing himself he could give her a world, where she could have them with someone else.

Then there was his heart, begging him to give in to his longing. Pleading with him to end the torment. Imploring him not to let go of the one thing that made his life seem less dark. So he was trapped in this tug of war, and he felt that all he had once been was being torn apart by it. He was losing his sense of self, and now it seemed that only his urges and obligations remained. His humour had faded, his charm had withered and his confidence lay broken beyond repair.

So as these thoughts and feelings were stretching and twisting his mental being into obscurity, he settled on the one thing on which his heart and mind could agree...finding out whether or not Mira supported their cause. He heard the door open and turned to see Mira coming in for her healing lesson. He could feel himself trembling on the inside, but he sobered at Justice' reminder of the importance of the subject.

"Hello Anders. What are you doing?" Mira asked sweetly as she approached.

"I have been trying to write down my arguments, to convince you that the circle is abusive and unjust," he began, but she held up her hand.

He looked at her and found himself confused. He had not expected her to interrupt him – not that early, at least.

"You don't have to convince me of that. I already know that it is," she smiled kindly.

"You... you do?" he asked, unable to hide his astonishment.

"Yes. If what happened with me proves anything, then it is that the circle is faulty. Locking up every mage as if they were criminals, has only made it easier for those who **are** dangerous to hide among them. Not to mention how corrupt the system is. There needs to be a system in place, but this one does more harm than it prevents. This circle isn't the answer," she explained.

"But Fenris... everything you said..." he tried and found himself unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Fenris says the things he does, because he is in pain. Constantly. You will never make him see things differently by forcing him to. But by acknowledging that some mages do have flaws and not taking his grouchiness too much to heart, I have an honest chance of having a dialogue with him rather than a screaming match."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" he asked, completely baffled.

"What is important is that **you** believe in your cause - and you were being surly. You are far less cute when you do that," she teased, and Anders couldn't help but let a chuckle escape him.

"Does that mean you think I'm cute?" he pressed.

"Did I say that? I don't think so," she mused with a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm sure you did," he grinned.

"No, you must be mistaken..." she began, but when Anders' gaze turned from playful to serious, she paused. "What?"

"Nothing... all this is just surprising - a good surprise mind you, but still," he replied, and reached to touch her cheek.

Good was an understatement. His heart was singing a hymn of joy that sent his entire being into ecstasy. It was like surreal dream had suddenly become real, and he found himself desperate to hold on to it and never let it fade. His world had been so dark for such a long time, but her presence made him believe that there was light at the end of the tunnel. And she was going to lead him to it. His breathing became slightly ragged and he was unable to tear his gaze from her. She sucked in her lower lip, making it look even more soft and moist, a signal giving him permission to kiss her. He took a deep breath to prepare himself to let passion take him, but then screams filled his mind. Flashes of her body dead in his arms, with his hands covered in her blood, overpowered him. The images made him jerk backwards and Mira gave him a worried and pained look.

"I-I'm sorry..." he stuttered, the images still haunting him.

She looked hurt for a moment, then looked at him more closely. Her expression turned into one of concern.

"Anders, you're afraid. Why?" she realised, and placed her hand on his arm.

"I... I don't want to hurt you. I'm not always a gentle man and I have no control around you," he breathed and backed further away.

"I'm not afraid of you. If you just..." she tried.

"**No**. You know what's inside me. That's who I am. I'll break your heart... if not worse," he said firmly, as he turned away from her.

To his surprise, he felt her arms around his waist and her head resting against his back. He was reaching the limits of his control and let out a trembling breath, while fighting the urge to turn around in her arms and return the embrace.

"I understand... more than you could possibly know, but hearts don't ever break. Sometimes you might wish they did, but they just keep on beating..." she said, her voice full of remorse.

When they heard someone at the door, she let go of him and they both turned. In came Bodahn.

"I'm sorry, messere, but this missive arrived for you. It's from the Viscount and apparently it's urgent," Bodahn explained.

"Thank you, Bodahn. Here, take the key and go back through the cellars," Mira smiled and exchanged an old key for the letter.

Mira leaned against the desk and began reading, while Anders watched her. She wrinkled her nose slightly and nibbled her lower lip, making her look adorable, which only made the events of minutes before even more excruciating.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to keep his emotions under control.

"The Viscount has summoned me, 'in regards to a delicate matter', but it says nothing beyond that. Did I do something terrible to him?" she asked with worry.

"No, you saved his son," Anders clarified.

She gave him a smirk and a doubtful glare.

"Are you telling me that I actually **saved** someone?" she gave a sad chuckle.

"You did. Not often, but it happened," he tried to smile.

"Yes, and it seems that in this case it was fortuitous. I can't believe how calculating I was," she sighed regretfully.

"Sometimes, the templars push us to extreme means just to be free. And though I might not approve of it, it did keep you free," he said softly.

She looked at him with a sudden dawn of understanding.

"That's why you lo – cared for her. You saw her as a victim and you wanted to rescue her."

"I suppose I did," he replied quietly, unable to meet her gaze.

She cleared her throat after an awkward pause.

"So, fancy a visit to the Viscount's Keep?" she smiled.

* * *

They were walking through the sewers beneath the undercity that led out to the coast. Anders chuckled as he looked at Mira, who had a black scarf covering her mouth and nose. With that black hair hanging loose, black boots and black gloves, she looked like a burglar. It was amusing because Mari would never have even noticed the smell. Sometimes it seemed as though all her senses had been dulled.

"Why is it that every time I get a job, I end up in the sewers?" Mira groused.

"At least it isn't the Deep Roads," Anders offered cheerfully, and he heard a faint chuckle coming from her.

"I suppose... I still can't believe that the Arishok would allow the poison to be stolen... or sacrifice his own men for it," Mira continued.

"They don't view it as a sacrifice as much as following the Qun. They take honour in it, even in death," Fenris explained.

"That makes sense in some twisted way," she replied, trying to suppress a gag.

"I'm not sure how much honour there is in dying, to Javaris," Varric quipped and Anders laughed.

"How did I meet this guy anyway?" she grumbled, jumping over a puddle.

"He hired you to kill Talvashoth, so he could get in good graces with the Qunari," Varric explained.

"I'll bet that went over well," she remarked sarcastically.

"It could have been worse. I mediated the misunderstanding," Fenris smiled, and to Anders that smile looked a little bit smug.

"Regardless, Javaris doesn't exactly seem like a mastermind at work here," Anders replied, wanting to take attention away from the elf.

"Kirkwall isn't exactly crawling with those, Blondie," Varric chortled.

They finally arrived at the exit of the tunnel and were soon attacked by a group of henchmen. Anders noted that Mira used mainly her force magic, knocking the men over and pushing them away and using different spells to paralyze them. Staying true to her word, she did not kill a single one of them using her magic. Instead, she would draw her dagger and kill those who came too close, and then only when absolutely necessary. He could barely believe it. He had seen how powerful she was and with what controlled fury she had killed those undeads a few days ago. She could dispatch this group alone if she chose to, but instead she held back with a temperance that amazed him. When the last men had fallen, she looked directly at Fenris and the elf smiled at her.

"You aren't weak," he praised.

"Thank you... Javaris, I think I remember him," Mira stated, looking towards the dwarf hiding at the far end of the camp.

"Yeah, might want to go careful on him, Waffles. Last time you met, you threatened him for money and nearly cut off his ear," Varric warned, and Mira nodded with understanding.

She walked towards the dwarf, who seemed to be all the more terrified when he recognized her. He crawled along the ground in an attempt to get away. Mira shook her head. Anders noticed how she had learned to look at her former self with a tragic sense of humour. Her way to keep it all at a distance, as far as he could figure.

"Calm yourself, Javaris. You're not dead... yet," Mira said, a little playfully.

"You? Granny's garters, she would hire you. I can't buy a break on discount! You know what? Go ahead, take my head and pike it back to that sodding elf," Javaris sighed, on his knees as if awaiting his judgement.

"Who is 'she'? And that recipe you stole from the Qunari isn't what you think," Mira challenged.

"Wait, you are tracking for the Qunari? Then she did it! That elf got them after me for nothing," Javaris spat.

"The obvious thief was perhaps a bit too obvious," Anders smiled.

"Here..." Mira said, helping him to stand. "Now from the beginning, please."

Javaris began to explain how an elf had set him up and blamed him for stealing the Qunari powder. He also informed them that he'd had someone track her to Low town. At this revelation, Mira turned away from the dwarf without another word, and started running back towards Kirkwall with Anders, Fenris and Varric right behind her. Unfortunately they were too late, and a whole street had already been poisoned by the elf. After they had closed off the poison and killed the mercenaries hired to prevent them from doing so, the elf finally made her appearance. She informed them that this had been an attempt to spread hatred against the Qunari. The scheme had ended violently, and as Mira walked over to see the faces of the innocents killed, Anders felt that they had pressured someone guiltless to do horrible things. What if no more than this was needed for Mira to again become Mari? Anders went up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"There was nothing you could have done," he soothed.

"Why does maintaining peace seem like a larger struggle than war?" she breathed raggedly.

Anders felt useless, as he had no words to comfort her, and no answer to her question. He could say, "it is because it is in our nature", but what would that possibly achieve? Fenris and Varric walked up next to them.

"Because many have come accustomed to it, while other souls are wretched or ignorant. Those people attack and the rest of us are forced to act," Fenris offered, and Mira turned to him.

"You are very wise, Fenris," she said softly.

"I... thank you," Fenris replied, unable to hide his surprise.

"Come, Waffles. I got a drink with your name on it back at The Hanged Man," Varric smiled, while patting her back.

* * *

With the day being so busy, Anders hadn't had time to ponder his nightmare, or what had nearly happened between him and Mira. But while sitting in The Hanged Man with the others, his thoughts had a will of their own. Mira had only been this way for three months, but he already felt like he knew her better than he ever had Mari. Some elements of her personality were the same, but she applied them so differently. She was still very hot-tempered and fiery, and Maker have mercy on any who managed to make her livid. But she always kept it under control, never gave into it. Her determination had not faded either, and it inspired him not to lose faith. And the thought that she supported his cause, or the mages at least, sent his heart soaring. Now he damned his cursed nature even more. He wanted to be with her, but he was terrified that Justice would not recognize her. He should keep his distance from her. Mari, he would not have minded dragging into the chaos of this whirlpool, but Mira didn't deserve it. Of course his heart did not make it easy. Especially since Mira was sitting next to him, but currently talking to Fenris.

"Come on, elf. You must have heard some stories from Orlais," Varric argued.

"No. You think the magisters would teach their slaves, anything that would make them think they were worthy beings?" Fenris said with suppressed annoyance.

"Alright, that's it. Varric, can I borrow your quill and a piece of paper?" Mira asked.

"Help yourself," Varric replied with a curious expression.

Mira grabbed the quill, ink and paper and sat down next to Fenris, much to Anders' agitation.

"What are you doing?" Fenris asked, quirking a smile.

"You are no longer a slave and yet you go on thinking like you are one. So, I'm going to help you make a list of all the things you were told you couldn't learn," Mira said with determination and a fond smile.

"And who is going to teach me these things? You?" Fenris gave her a doubtful glare.

"Why not? Think of it as your own personal rebellion against the magisters," she smiled brightly.

"You are a very odd mage," Fenris chuckled.

"Indeed. Now, first we have reading and writing..." she began, as she wrote a list.

This was more than Anders could bear. Fenris was as volatile as he, and in Anders' eyes this was not an improvement. Especially since Mira was a mage. Fenris would never accept all of who she was and would never agree with her views. Anders was convinced that both he and Fenris were far too set in their ways ever to change them. So after saying goodbye, he returned to the clinic and buried himself in his work.

Hours passed without him realising, and it was only when he heard a knock on his door that he knew it was way past midnight. He walked to the clinic slowly and looked out a crack in the door to see if templars were outside. To his surprise, it was Hawke . He opened the door quickly and saw that her eyes were red, and she looked very sickly.

"Hawke? Are you alright? Did you get poisoned earlier?" he asked with concern, and brought her inside.

"No. I couldn't sleep. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I figured you weren't asleep yet," she said in a low voice.

"Come and sit down. I'll make you some tea," he smiled and gestured to a chair.

As he made the tea, he saw her placing a book on the table. He sighed with regret when he discovered it was one of the journals he had seen at her house.

"Are you sure you should be reading those?" he asked with caution.

"I need to know what made me the way I was, and I keep feeling the answers are in these journals. Unfortunately, I have only my own written after I came to Kirkwall. This one was my father's, which my mother kept," she explained.

He walked over, gave her a mug and sat down in a chair opposite her. He became aware of her seeming very tired. He should have realised sooner that it had something to do with those diaries.

"But whatever is written in those, is making you unable to sleep," he concluded with concern.

"Yes... Anders, I'm a horrible person... I tried to... I," she couldn't finish her sentence as her breathing became ragged.

"You know you can tell me," he encouraged softly.

"I don't think I can, but you can read it," she replied, and put forth the journal.

"Most of it is very mundane and I haven't finished it yet, but there are two passages I want you to see."

Anders reached for the book and began reading the page she had indicated.

"_Malcolm's diary, year 912 of the Dragon Age_

_I don't know how to write this down, but I have to for my own sanity's sake. Mari tried to kill Bethany and Carver today. Leandra has been suffering from postpartum depression and her energy has been limited. She can barely manage to feed the twins without beginning to cry. I have tried to help her as best I can, but only time can cure it. Therefore I have taken over the chores around the house as well as trying to provide a living. It has been difficult, and Mari has been overlooked because of it. But I had not in my wildest dreams believed her capable of this. In a way I feel sorry for her. She has only just turned five and she doesn't understand what is going on around her. All she knew was that her mother was depressed and I was tired. She honestly believed she was helping, and I don't think she meant to kill them. She only wanted them to stop crying so Leandra wouldn't suffer. Mari has no idea what she had almost done and when I think of Bethany not breathing, my blood runs cold. In the end, it is my fault for not watching over her more closely. I have made no mention of this to Leandra and sworn Mari to secrecy. I believe she will keep it."_

Anders swallowed. This was terrible, but with her being so young, it was not uncommon for children to act without knowledge of the consequences of their actions. He was more surprised to see that at some point Mari had actually cared for her mother's wellbeing. Mira looked ashamed and he reached for her hand to comfort her.

"You were just a child and though it was horrible, it was your parents' responsibility to look after you," he tried to soothe.

"I tried to kill my siblings," she affirmed, unable to meet his gaze.

"No, you were trying to help your mother. You just had no idea what you were doing," he said kindly.

"Then look at this." She turned to another page dated several years later.

"_Malcolm's diary, year 919 of the Dragon Age_

_Mari killed a dog today. The dog was a mabari that belonged to one of the minor nobles. She has been killing smaller animals for a while now, and though I have tried to make her understand that it is wrong, she can't seem to grasp why. I should have foreseen that this would be her next step. The dog's owner is a fifteen year old boy. Lately he has made his mabari chase down Carver every time he goes home from school. I have healed more bite marks now than I can count. I have of course talked to both the boy and his father, but with little result. So Mari took it into her own hands and did what I failed to do; protect Carver. Carver thinks I have failed him as well and has grown resentful of both the girls and myself. Mari killed the dog with a shovel. It was bloody and disturbing, but she didn't seem affected by it at all. I guess I should be grateful that she didn't use her magic. Maker knows what I'll do if she one day does."_

He looked up at her again and saw tears forming in her eyes that she refused to let fall. He moved closer to her and held her tight.

"You and Fenris call each other 'beast' and 'abomination', but I am the real monster. I'm sorry to place all this on you, but you are the only one who might understand... I think... I think I might have killed my entire family," she whimpered and pressed her face into his feathered shoulder.

"You are not that person anymore. You are not capable of the same things. You are a good person and the one bright light in Kirkwall," he comforted, and his mind finished, _"and I love you"_.


	9. Chapter 9 Continence

**Continence**

Mira was lying asleep on one of the clinic cots, but Anders found he couldn't. He was sitting in a chair at the table a few meters from her, only just able to see her gentle features by the soft glow of a single candle. His heart ached when he saw that even in her sleep, she would reach for her hair to be sure it was covering her face. It was hardly necessary for her to do so anymore. She had gained twenty pounds from the looks of her, which had given her curves and breasts resembling Isabella's... if not so publicly displayed. Since she had stopped using blood magic, her body had begun to repair itself and though her skin was still pale, she had colour in her cheeks and contours in her face. Mari had been pretty despite her looking sickly, but she did not compare to Mira. He found himself hating Mari for what she had done to Mira, his mind judging them as two different individuals. A pained chuckle almost escaped him at the realisation that, no matter what happened, he would always love **and **hate her. A chilling thought occurred to him. If love should happen between them, even though it shouldn't, was that how she would see him? Would she love him, whilst hating the spirit inside him? His thoughts were disrupted when he heard an unmistakeable whine at the door. He went to see, and outside was Mongrel looking up at him, raising his one and a half ears with an inquisitive look.

"She is here. How did you get out of the estate anyway?" Anders whispered.

Mongrel gave a huff while wagging his tail.

"Of course, I see," he chuckled, not having the slightest clue as to what the dog was trying to tell him.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked Mongrel, and he had to smile at himself for having this conversation with a **dog**.

Mongrel gave a happy bark and Anders hushed him while stepping away to let the beast inside. Mongrel trotted directly over to his mistress, and it still pleased Anders to see that it was without fear. Mira seemed to realise that Mongrel was near, despite still being asleep. She moved back in the cot and Mongrel jumped up onto it, making Anders twitch involuntarily, fearing the cot would break. Mongrel rested his head on Mira's shoulder, while her arm and one leg curled around him.

"Lucky bastard," Anders grumbled, and Mongrel gave a yawn as if in agreement.

He found himself smiling as he returned to the table and for awhile, he just watched them. The timid dog, completely at peace and protective of his mistress, and the woman who had a legacy that would haunt her for eternity, looking as innocent as a child. He then turned back to his book, but his eye caught Malcolm's diary instead. He was bursting with curiosity, but was uncertain if he would be crossing a boundary. He looked at Mira for a moment while pondering the implications. She had brought it here and shown it to him, but if there were parts she didn't want him to see and he did anyway, she would become absolutely livid. Eventually he came to the conclusion that she was looking for answers, but they were damaging her more than she was willing to admit. If he were to read it first, then perhaps he could shelter her from some of it. So he took the book and found the ribbon that marked where Mira had stopped reading. He didn't have to read very long before something interesting caught his attention.

"_Malcolm's diary, year 920 of the Dragon Age_

_I found something when I healed Mari after she bumped her head the other day. There is an abnormality in her brain. I have tried to heal it, but I can't figure out how to do it. I have researched this phenomenon and what I found is devastating. According to the reference books, there is a certain birth defect that can inhibit the person from feeling such emotions as compassion, remorse and sympathy. It also seems to affect judgement, which makes them highly violent. So far all information I have found says that all that can be done is to protect the individual from anything traumatizing, and it shouldn't escalate. I will not stop looking for a way to help my beloved Mari, but until then I will have to protect her."_

As Anders read this, he wasn't sure if he was horrified or exuberant. He was tempted to jump out of his chair and go directly to Mira, and try healing her head to see if the abnormality was still there. But she was sleeping so peacefully that he couldn't dare it, and he wasn't sure it was even necessary. They had all seen the change in Hawke and he knew the defect wasn't there now. Still in the morning, he would check just to make sure. But if it was no longer there, then whatever ritual Mari had performed must have corrected the flaw in her brain. If she had been indeed trying to make herself more powerful, then it would make sense. If she had one irregularity, there might have been others. Perhaps that was why she had lost her memory as well. Maybe so much of her brain had been altered that Mari had been completely excised. There could have been an entire restructure of her psyche, making way for a new personality. He felt a sudden excitement come over him and he hurried to the back of his clinic, searching for any books relevant to the subject.

"_Why are you bothering with this? She is well, and thus we have more important matters to attend to,_" Justice grumbled.

"We have finally found an ally, Justice. I have to make certain that she cannot be reverted to her former state. We both know what **that** would do to mages," Anders argued.

"_That... is a disturbing thought..._" Justice replied with true worry.

While looking for the books, Anders actually began feeling a little sorry for Mari. This condition of hers had been made worse, somehow. Along the way, something must have happened that sent her over the edge. From Malcolm's diary, it seemed that even though her emotions had been impaired, she had honestly cared for her family at some point. There was a clear difference between the girl who had killed a big bloodthirsty dog to protect her little brother, and the woman who cold-heartedly murdered said brother in the Deep Roads. Though he by no account thought of Mari as being innocent, she had been a victim of something or someone, before she lost all connection to her emotions.

"I'll bet it was a templar," Anders muttered under his breath.

He heard a whine from behind him and saw Mongrel looking at him. Mongrel gently took Anders by his sleeve and pulled to make him follow. When Anders returned to the front of the clinic, he could hear Mira thrashing in her sleep and whimpering. He hurried to sit down on the floor next to the cot. Tears streamed down her face and her head was turning from side to side. He gently placed a hand on her cheek and whispered softly to wake her. Still tossing, she turned towards him. Her hand went around his neck and pulled him close for a kiss. Her lips warmed against his as she made a soft humming noise, and his heart threatened to break his ribcage. Her lips weren't moving on his, but the softness of the contact still made his skin tingle. Anders felt himself giving in to the kiss, before he realised that she was still asleep. Her lips were at rest and her hand lost its grip. He moved away and pushed himself backwards along the floor, with the same panic as though she had turned into an abomination before him. He was breathless and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. What in the Maker's name had she been dreaming about? And he cursed himself for having sat down so close to her face. Anders lifted the scarf from around his neck and bit down into it, turning his cry of anguish into a low growl. Mira began thrashing again, but he dared not go to her.

"No... no... no... please, don't hurt her..." Mira begged in her sleep, with tears streaming from her eyes.

The sound of her voice pleading was more than he could bear. Cautiously he approached her, but remained standing while carefully shaking her shoulder. She sat up with a sudden panic, which made Anders jump backwards. She was breathing heavily, and buried her face in the palms of her hands. He felt a desire to go to her and wrap his arms around her, but for once it was not out of fear that she would harm him... rather the exact opposite. She looked at him, her eyes red, with cheeks flushed from crying in her sleep.

"I'm sorry... Did I wake you?" she asked softly.

"No, I was still awake... you had a nightmare," he explained, and walked closer.

"Yes... I know... Sorry, I should have warned you," she apologized.

"No, don't be sorry... Does it happen often?" he asked attentively, daring to edge a little closer.

"Every night, but I doubt you want to hear about it," she sighed and pulled her knees up under her chin.

"Of course I do," he soothed, and sat down at the other end of the cot, still maintaining a distance.

"No, you really don't," she said firmly, her eyes widening.

"My nightmares are plagued by Darkspawn. I swear mine are worse than yours. We could swap stories, and I promise to top each of yours with one of mine," he smirked, hoping to comfort her, and felt relief when she gave a soft chuckle.

"It's not specific... I see women mostly, who are naked, and I can see myself cutting into them... I try to stop, to keep myself from hurting them, but I can't... I fear they might be memories and they terrify me," she confessed, guilt and shame dominating her expression.

Anders swallowed. He was all too aware of Mari's sexual eccentricities, not that he had ever been part of them. Neither had Isabella. But prostitutes from the Blooming Rose had frequently sought him out after an appointment with Mari. Often they were bruised and had small cuts. But what could he possibly say to Mira? She was already suffering, and each time they went past the Rose in Hightown, Mira would hide herself behind that ebony veil of hers. She knew she had done terrible things. There was no need for him to confirm or clarify. It would only make it worse.

"Shhh... you are not that person. You have to remember that," he soothed, his hand stroking her shoulder.

"I've wondered if this was how Kelder felt...like a prisoner in his own body, while an urge he couldn't control dominated him," she said quietly.

Anders paused for a moment, with the sad discovery of how easily he could relate to her words. Perhaps he was the same when Justice took over, when he entered the frenzy which was powered by his vengeance. Maybe there were those who were constantly at its mercy. This was possibly the true definition of an abomination - one who lost himself to rage, while being detached from everything human inside. He swallowed and felt his stomach twisting.

"Maybe... It sounds much as people describe demonic possession. It's disturbing that people can act in such a way without a demon enforcing it... Mira?" he said softly.

"Yes?" she replied looking at him with a gaze so mild, he felt himself being drawn closer to her.

"Is that how you see me? Like an abomination?" he asked carefully, forcing himself not to look away from her.

She smiled warmly at him and gently held his hand, while her thumb brushed his knuckles. Even this small gesture forced his heartbeat to quicken and his mouth to dry.

"No... being an abomination is something constant, having urges that never leave and can never be dominated. You sometimes lose yourself and your way, but **you** are capable of restraint and control, not to mention compassion. I don't believe Kelder ever was. As for myself, I was calculating and cruel. I knew what I was doing - planned it and was fully aware. I was the worst of abominations, because I liked what I became. Confusing fury with strength, I felt no remorse." Sadness and despair filled her voice as she explained. Anders felt his heart tighten.

He wanted to make that sadness fade and save her, even if it was only from her nightmares. A few moments went by and he tried to think of something that would cheer her up. He smiled at her and felt a small triumph, that this was enough to make her eyes light up.

"Well, I promised you a worse nightmare, didn't I? Let's see... Oh, there's this one about a friend of mine named Oghren. He had recently become a surface dwarf when I met him, and someone had convinced him that there was this thing called 'shleets'," he began.

"Shleets?" She gave him an amused look.

"Yes, this guy convinced Oghren that they lay around on the ground pretending to be ordinary pants and would attack you when you least expected it," he continued, and was rewarded with a short laugh form Mira.

"So one night he jumped onto one of the tables in his drunken state, frantically removed his pants and threw them away. For half an hour he stood on the table butt naked and with his axe drawn," Anders grinned and Mira laughed again.

"Maker! Poor dwarf! Though, something tells me it wasn't a nightmare," she giggled.

"No, but **Maker,** I wish that it was," he sighed with drama.

"You should have told him they didn't exist," she tried to frown, but her smile remained.

"The dwarf was a drunk berserker wielding an axe twice his size! No one in their right mind would go near him," he defended.

Mira giggled and then saw that Mongrel was in the room. The dog ran to his mistress and she began pampering him with kisses and hugs.

"Lucky mutt," Anders mouthed at the dog, who gave a self-satisfied huff in reply.

* * *

Anders grumbled to himself as he walked through Hightown. All the nobles who never left the confines of Hightown's whitewashed walls, acted as though the struggles of Lowtown and Darktown might as well have been happening in a distant country. Thankfully, Mira was nothing like the rest of them.

Since he had found out about Mira's former condition three weeks ago, he had been researching it and examined her once a week. He had found no irregularities in her brain, or any damage. So it seemed that nothing would return Mira to her former self. The memories were another matter. They might still be there, suppressed in her unconscious, but though she had begun to remember people and places, memories connected to them never emerged. Except in her dreams, which he knew still haunted her. He had given her some herbs to relax, but nothing he could do would keep those dreams from appearing. He actually hopefully hypothesized, that they weren't actual memories, but merely her own remorse creating similar scenarios based on what she had been told. Or read in those damned diaries. Anders had tried to convince her not to read them, but she stubbornly refused. Her obstinate behaviour was maddening.

"_You find it fascinating and distracting. And it is your obsession with her that is leading you to this folly,_" Justice scorned snidely.

Anders groaned. The spirit being him and him being the spirit, he couldn't argue or deny that Justice was right. He was obsessed with her. Madly and hopelessly in love with her, in a whole other way than he had been with Mari. The desperation and poisoning agony was no longer there, but was instead replaced with longing and intoxicating allure. With Mira, he knew that happiness, be it only temporary, was possible, but he couldn't give into it. She had enough remorse to last her a lifetime, and if he gave himself permission to love her, he would only add to it. With him came a life of self-deprivation and she deserved a life that was full. And still, as he found himself at her door, his heart was pulsating with hope and anticipation that she might return his affections. Bodahn opened the door and greeted him.

"Master Anders, so good to see you. Mistress Hawke is in the study. I'll go prepare a meal for you. I think we have some stew left over from last night," Bodahn said happily.

"Thank you, but you don't need to trouble yourself," Anders smiled, while kneeling to pet Mongrel who was bouncing back and forth with his joy of seeing him.

"You know the rule, messere. I have strict instructions from the Mistress not to let you leave this house without giving you a proper meal first. Besides, its lunch time, so the Mistress will probably join you," Bodahn insisted, and Anders couldn't help but chuckle.

Between Mongrel's happiness to see him, the anticipation of seeing Hawke, and the friendly servant, Anders was in a good mood... until he heard **his** voice. Nearing the study, he could hear the deep rumble that belonged to Fenris, expanding through the room. His annoyance was already in full effect when he got to the study and saw Mira almost leaning against the elf, looking into the book as Fenris read.

"_Why is she so close to him?_" his mind groused.

"_She would have to be in order for her to teach him to read,_" Justice replied very pragmatically.

"_Thank you for stating the obvious,_" Anders hissed back.

"_I have to, since your fascination with this woman has made you ignore it,_" Justice countered.

Anders took a deep breath and felt himself growing tired. Nothing was ever more exhausting than arguing with yourself. His exasperation vanished as soon as Mira looked up at him and smiled brightly. Even more when the elf glanced up and looked resentful for Anders having disturbed them.

"Anders! Here to check up on me?" she smiled and walked over to him.

"With all the trouble you get into, that is hardly surprising," he chuckled.

"I would have come by the clinic you know," she replied, her smile never fading.

"I needed some new herbs anyway. I brought you more to help you sleep. And Bodahn did promise me that I could have lunch with a pretty girl," he said suggestively, and Mira laughed.

"Really? He must have meant Orana," she giggled, as she was blushing fiercely.

"Don't you have food in Darktown?" Fenris sneered.

"Sure, we have rat-stew. You should come by some time and try it, and then we could teach each other to knit," Anders said with casual sarcasm, and he was quite proud of how well he hid his annoyance.

"Anders, would you go place the herbs in the kitchen? Fenris and I just have to finish the last paragraph and I'll be right there," Mira smiled, undoubtedly in an attempt to keep them from coming to blows.

Anders nodded and did as she asked, but noted that she sat down next to Fenris again. In the kitchen, Anders sighed with contentment as he leaned over the stew bubbling on the fire. He heard Mira's voice in the living room.

"Are you sure you won't stay, Fenris? Surely Anders doesn't bother you that much."

"He doesn't, but I have some business I need to attend to. Same time tomorrow?" Fenris asked.

"Yes. Goodbye, and be careful," she said softly, and Anders heard the door close.

Shortly after, Mira entered the kitchen and walked towards him, grabbing two bowls from a shelf as she approached. She handed them to Anders and he filled them.

"I'm glad you came by, actually. Merrill has asked me to do her a favour, to help her talk to the Keeper. I was hoping you would come with us. I already asked Varric, and he agreed," she requested as she sat down.

"Of course," he smiled.

"Thank you. I owe her a great deal. But first, food! Dig in!" she said with an excitement that made him chuckle.

* * *

They had already picked up Varric when they got to the Alienage, but as soon as they arrived, they encountered five male humans standing around two elven women. One of them had a fierce grip on a woman's arm.

"Let me go!" she cried, and tried to kick him.

"Hush, little knife-ear. You are going to be our entertainment," he cooed.

Anders felt Justice stirring in him and saw Varric reach for Bianca, but neither got a chance to interfere, as Mira took determined steps forward. She grabbed the man by his shirt collar and pushed him against a tree, her hands emitting the heat of blue-flickering fire. She turned him around with force, scraping his cheek against the bark. She looked at the other men with a deadly glare, and they stepped back. She pressed herself against her victim's back and purred in the manner of Mari.

"See that bottle over there? Do you know what happens if I push it into you, like you intended to force yourself into these women?"

"No..." the man answered breathlessly.

"The pressure that would form would result in it getting stuck and then there would be only two ways of extracting it. One; a surgeon will have to cut you open. Two; you will have to shatter it in order to remove it, and then picking it out of you piece by piece. Now if I hear as much as a whisper that you and your fellows have harmed anyone, I will seek you out and place one twice that size in your arse. Do you understand?" she growled.

"My father will never stand for it. He is a noble with influence!" the man objected heatedly.

"And my name is Hawke..." she purred, and the man's eyes widened in fear.

She threw him on the ground and the men ran for it. Hawke turned to Varric and Anders when the men where gone and let out a shuddering breath.

"It's useful being feared, but remind me never to do that again," she chuckled.

Both Anders and Varric released a breath. For a moment, Anders actually feared that Mari had returned, and was so relieved that he stepped forward and embraced her without thinking. Mira returned it and he could feel her quivering. Anders smiled at this proof that she was Mira. She could sound as fierce as Mari, but Mari would never be able to fake Mira's kindness or the warmth passing from her to him. The elves thanked Mira repeatedly, before they finally made it to Merrill's house.

* * *

Twilight was approaching as they made their way back to Kirkwall, and Mira ignored him completely! They had helped the Dalish by slaying a Varterral that had killed several of their hunters, in return for a dagger Merrill needed to repair her mirror. The Keeper gave it to Mira rather than Merrill, however, and placed on Mira the burden and responsibility of choosing to trust Merrill. Knowing that it would lead Merrill to more blood magic, Mira had cautioned Merrill, and Anders had tried kindly to make Merrill reconsider. Merrill was adamant however, and Mira had given the dagger to her. Anders had supported this fairness, warning Merrill, but giving her the freedom to choose for herself.

That was not why Mira was cross with him. He knew when it had happened and he bitterly regretted, as it was cruel to Merrill. Anders had always been against blood magic, but years of exposure to Mari's malicious use of it had lowered is tolerance towards it even more. Time and time again he had warned Merrill against using blood magic, and his worry for her had only increased. Like an overprotective brother he watched her, and it was frustrating to see her ignore it. Especially considering what Hawke had become. So when one of Merrill's clan mates had been killed by the monster, it had been in an attempt to flee Merrill and her bloodmagic.

_"Why? What was he thinking? He looked at me as if I were a monster!" Merrill had whimpered._

_"Maybe he was thinking, "ARGH! Bloodmage!". That seems the most likely scenario," Anders had huffed in his annoyance._

At that moment Mira had given him a look so unforgiving, which had it come from Mari, he would have been dead now. He cursed himself for being so disdainful. So the first thing he did when they got back to Kirkwall was to take Merrill into his arms and apologize. Merrill of course, forgave him gladly, and in some ways Anders wished that he were as forgiving and gentle as she. Mira was another matter, and as they walked Varric back to the Hanged Man and the dwarf said goodnight, she had still not spoken a word to Anders.

"Mira, I..." he tried.

She turned to look at him with piercing eyes that rivalled Mari's. She was furious, alright.

"Don't! That behaviour was demeaning to both Merrill and yourself, and if I ever see you treat someone like that again in the midst of their grief, I will show you an anger that will make Justice' seem sedate!" she sneered.

And Anders... believed her. He merely nodded in response. He called after her as she walked away.

"Why did you give Merrill the Aurulinholm?"

She turned and looked at him with a sad expression.

"It's just... I know you are worried about her," Anders clarified.

"Because I owed her like I owe all of you..." she said in an almost haunting whisper.

The woman he loved vanished into the night, leaving Anders feeling alone, unwanted, and it had been his own doing.

* * *

_Author's note: I hope you all liked this chapter and that it gave you a little more inside in to Mari. I have a request, I would like to hear from anyone who has ever done the "Debt in the family" quest, so if you could PM me I would be grateful._

_Special Thanks to Flint and Feather, who helps improve my writing.  
_


	10. Chapter 10 Self-reproach

**Self-reproach**

Anders had not seen Mira in over a week. He knew that she had done several jobs across town, but she had not asked him to join in a single one of them. She hadn't come by for healing lessons either, but had sent a note saying that she had been too busy. Anders was beginning to worry that he had really messed up this time, and found himself more than eager to mend their relationship. He tried to take comfort in the fact that the weekly basket still arrived, which she was still to admit was coming from her. So he was almost overjoyed to see her in The Hanged Man that evening. She was standing with Isabella at the bar and was dressed in a deep blue tunic with white sleeves, dark pants and boots. Her hair was loose as always and hiding her face. Neither she nor Isabella noticed his approach. What he heard almost made him regret it.

"Oh, you are blushing, kitten," Isabella cooed.

"I am **not**!" Mira denied.

"I saw how you were looking at him. He is cute in a way," Isabella shrugged.

"In a way? If the Maker were a woman, all men would look like him," Mira argued in a light tone.

Anders turned his head and saw the man they were talking about. He was tall, with long dark hair, a trimmed beard surrounding his mouth and stubble along his jaw. Anders felt something twist inside him as he looked at the handsome man, who was laughing and looking carefree. He looked a close approximation to someone Anders had once been, but a far cry from the man he was now. The man looked up and smiled at Isabella and Mira, gesturing for them to come closer.

"Come on, sweetness. This is going to be fun," Isabella said with excitement.

"No thank you. You go ahead," Mira replied, turning her head, hiding behind the black veil.

"What? Why? You were the one who thought him cute." Isabella raised an eyebrow, looking closely at her friend.

"It's one thing to watch, another to approach. Besides, it's not important to me and you'll have fun," Mira smiled.

"Are you lacking confidence? You used to have such a healthy appetite for a good tumble," Isabella purred.

"Please don't push," Mira said quietly. Anders was unable to see her expression through the concealment of her hair.

"Kitten, you have..."

"Isabella, leave her alone," Anders interrupted.

Mira turned quickly to face him, and he could see she was blushing.

"You two are no fun. Well, enjoy each other's company, while I go hunting," Isabella chuckled and walked over to the man.

Mira turned away from him again and leaned against the bar, her hair covering her face. Anders didn't know why, but he could tell that she was sad and tired, even as she did her best to hide it. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. She froze at the action, and he could not decide if it was from his touch or the sudden exposure. She shook her head and the smooth silk hair swung down over her face again.

"No, don't do that. Don't hide from me," he said softly, and made her turn to face him.

He placed a finger under her chin to raise her face to him, the black veil of hair falling back like water. She looked weary.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. I had no idea how..." he began.

"It isn't you. I have been reading the diaries, despite you telling me not to, and my nightmares are getting worse. I have avoided you because I didn't want you to worry," she explained with a small downcast smile.

Anders chuckled sadly.

"I always worry about you. But you should really stop reading them, if they cause you so much distress," he said kindly, but firmly.

"And what else should I do? I need to know the wrong I have done, in order to right it,"

"Would you trust me to read them? Then I will find that which is still relevant and you can be spared the pain of the rest," he offered.

"_Would you stop this folly? We have more important things to attend to!_" Justice objected.

"_I have to help her. Can't you see she is suffering?_"

"_I can, but she is also a grown woman, thus capable of dealing with her own affairs. She does not need a father,_" Justice pointed out.

"_I am not trying to be her father!_" Anders objected.

"_Then what? Her lover? Or do you intend to marry her? You know that path will only cause her misery._"

Anders rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I couldn't possibly ask that of you. You have done so much already and..." Mira began.

"Tell you what. If you help me in the clinic, I'll help you with this. Simply two friends doing each other a favour," Anders suggested with a smile.

"Alright... you can read my father's diary and I can read my own. Half the trouble then," she smiled and continued, "Would you mind following me home then? I would like to give it to you straight away, so I don't get tempted," she suggested, and walked towards the door.

"You are actually tempted to read them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"In a morbid sort of way." She shrugged, and Anders had to admire how well she hid her feelings. Of course, with her hair disguising her expressions most of the time, it was not as challenging.

Outside, a drunk man bumped into them and rolled onto the street, wailing in over-dramatic distress, far exceeding the actual pain he was feeling. In fact, Anders believed the man far too drunk to feel any at all. Mira and he met glances momentarily and he could see her suppressing a chuckle. Regardless, she helped him to his feet and when he nearly fell over, dragging Hawke with him, Anders grabbed hold of him as well. Anders held his breath after getting a whiff of the citizen's alcoholic odour.

"Oh, you are going to have some hangover in the morning," Anders chuckled.

"Where do you live? Can we take you home?" Mira asked kindly.

"I can't go home. Macha will kill me," the man grunted.

"Macha...?" Mira repeated, turning suddenly to Anders.

Before they could ask any further questions however, the man broke free of their grasps and wobbled through Lowtown. Anders turned to Mira, who was biting her lower lip.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"I think I got a letter from his daughter, thanking me for saving her brother. She mentioned something about things being hard for them," she replied, and looked at him as if seeking for answers.

As they began walking towards Hightown, Anders explained the circumstances.

"Keran was a templar, caught and tortured by some blood mages who tried possessing the templars with demons. When we found him, I personally made certain Keran wasn't possessed. When we returned to the templars, the Knight Captain wanted to expel him from the order. Keran asked for yo – Mari's support and..."

"I didn't give it, so he lost his livelihood," Mira finished. "I wonder if it was worth it," she mused after a few moments.

"If what was worth it?" he asked, confused.

"If turning on everything and everyone paid off in some way. To me, it just seems so pointless now."

They were quiet the rest of the walk back to her estate, and Anders found himself looking at her constantly. The way the moonlight reflected on her hair and on the glimpses of white skin that were exposed from time to time. He felt an urge to tilt her face towards the sky and brush her hair back, so he could take in the mesmerising spectacle of the moonlight revealing the beauty of her face. He was filled with a desperate need to give her just a moment when she did not feel the need to hide. He wondered how much she still hid from him, and felt that he would never be able to rest until he knew every little detail about her. As if answering his prayer, she looked towards the moon as a smile formed on her lips. Her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He could see her breath on the air, and the temptation to claim her lips was almost too much to bear. The memory of the kiss she never knew happened, festered in his mind, and he couldn't determine if she was a sickness or a cure. His torment ended as they entered the estate. Or so he thought until she walked up to her bedroom, making him follow. She walked towards her desk and looked over the journals while his eyes unconsciously went repeatedly to her bed, his thoughts becoming less gentlemanly with each passing second. A sigh escaped her lips as she picked up a letter, and Anders forced himself to stand still, his body betraying his calm demeanour in every way possible.

"How many noble parties are there? You would think they have better things to do," Mira smiled and thankfully, was not looking at him.

"Of course not. The people here never leave Hightown's fancy walls. They have no idea what's brewing below them," Anders said a little darkly.

Mira sighed. "You are probably right. Still, I cannot stay away forever. I have used my mother's death as an excuse for long enough. And Sebastian promised to go with me," she explained, her back still turned towards him.

"Sebastian?" Anders asked with surprise.

"He is the only noble I know and he was kind enough to suggest it. I would rather have asked someone else, but I have a feeling you would rather stay out of the spotlight," she replied, looking at him with a small smile and a faint blush that made him swallow.

"I would have suffered it had you asked," he smirked charmingly, and had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling as she turned her slightly flustered gaze from him.

"I also thought it would be too great a risk with the templars," she replied, obviously struggling to make her statement sound calm.

"There is that, of course... Things just keep getting worse. I had templars practically on my doorstep the other night," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

This made Mira turn quickly and her expression was full of worry.

"Do they know about you? They are hunting you?" she asked with great concern, making Anders smile a little.

"Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps, but it's not as if my clinic is a secret. It's only a matter of time," he sighed regretfully.

Mira looked thoughtful for a moment, then went into a drawer and picked up something before walking towards him. She took his hand and placed an old key in it. Anders was unsure what it was for and looked at her with a crooked smile.

"It's a key," she said unhelpfully, with a smirk.

"I can see that. Sweetheart, I'm not letting anyone lock me up. You included," he said with a charming smile.

"You are saying that as if it were a choice," she grinned.

"Leave it to you to turn that into a challenge," he laughed.

"It's for the estate's cellar door, next to your clinic. If the templars come, you can use it for a quick escape," she smiled and looked down to the floor, concealing herself yet again.

"Thank you... It still surprises me how much you risk for my sake. I will keep it close," he said softly and prayed that she would look up at him, for he dared not touch her.

"It is nothing. I owe you more than I can ever repay," she replied and turned away from him. She picked up the book and handed it to him as well.

"My father's journal. Thank you, Anders," she smiled softly, too shy to look at him.

He pushed her soft hair aside and kissed her cheek lightly.

"Goodnight Mira," he said softly and walked out the door, dreading that if he looked back, he would not be able to contain himself any longer. For her sake he should stay away, and flashes of Justice killing her, kept him from giving in to the desperate longing of his heart.

* * *

_"Malcolm's diary, year 922 of the Dragon Age_

_Mari finally did it. She killed a man, her teacher no less. We are on the run again, and I fear that the templars are not far behind. Bethany has also started to show signs of magic and I fear for my family more than ever. Mari won't give me an explanation as to why she killed Barren, but she has grown distant to me. I can't understand how a thirteen year old girl can drain a man of blood, set him on fire and enjoy it. She should have been terrified, but instead she is revelling in it. She has stopped showing any emotion as of late. She only smiles that cold grin of hers or reacts with an anger that is terrifying to me. Sometimes she tells me that she hates me and it breaks my heart, because I actually believe her. How did I lose my little girl to this cold hearted shell whom I no longer recognize?"_

Anders rubbed his face after reading the entry. Thirteen. That was Mari's age was when she took her first human life, seemingly in cold blood. What made a girl, who was just taking her first tentative step towards womanhood, take a man's life? What transformed a girl with a loving family and a desire to protect them, into a heartless killer? What astonished Anders most was that Malcolm's diary made it seem that it had suddenly happened one day without warning. There was no increasing violence on her part. It was like something had just snapped inside her. He leaned back in the chair and stretched, when he heard a knock on the door and it opened. In came Varric.

"Good evening, Varric. I wasn't expecting to see you today," Anders smiled, but it faded as he saw Varric's grim expression.

"Hey Blondie, I was wondering if I can get you to talk to Waffles?"

"What happened?" Anders said, worried, and stood up.

"Remember that boy, Keran? We sought out someone called Senestra the Snake, to whom his father owed a lot of money. Waffles wanted to deal with it peacefully, but no such luck. After, she started to blame herself for Keran's father borrowing money from someone like that. She has locked herself in the Estate and won't talk to anyone. I thought you might be able to talk to her. You seem to understand her," Varric suggested.

"Of course. Thank you, Varric," Anders replied and hurried out the door.

* * *

Anders used the key Hawke had given him to get inside the Estate and realised just how massive the cellars were. After getting lost a few times, he finally found his way. Opening the door to the upstairs, he was greeted by Mongrel growling fiercely.

"Easy boy, it's just me," Anders soothed, and the dog greeted him happily.

Mongrel then began whining and led him upstairs to Mira's bedroom. He opened the door and Mira looked at him briefly, but did not acknowledge his presence beyond that. Anders watched almost helplessly as Mira paced back and forth. Every word of comfort or reason he tried to offer, she brushed off as meaningless. Nothing helped. She was buried in self-anger, as guilt and remorse tore the essence of her being. Anders knew exactly this feeling, and knew that no comfort he could ever offer would be enough. Mira turned to a mirror and for long moments, just stared at it.

"How could you do it? You selfish, heartless bitch!" Mira cried at her reflection, and with a howl, she picked up a bottle of ink from her desk and threw it at the mirror.

The looking glass shattered, covered with ink. Between the fragments of mirror left in the frame, the ink lingered and looked like black blood slowly spilling from it. Mira began slapping herself as she roared in anger, and Anders feared she was losing herself to her desperation. He ran forward and held her arms to prevent her from continuing to hurt herself.

"Let. Me. Go!" she sneered.

"No! I can't stand by and watch you do this," he insisted, still holding her firmly as she struggled.

"I deserve this!" she growled, her eyes filled with hatred and absent of tears.

"No, you don't! You can't blame yourself for something that made you unable to control yourself," he said firmly.

"You are right. I **should** be blaming **you**!" she snarled.

Anders felt like he'd been punched by the injustice of her accusation, and his anger rose up.

"**Me**?!" he roared back.

"Yes, **you**! You knew the kind of monster I was, but you just stood back and let me do it. You could have killed me many times, but you didn't. And you have killed people for far less! You had the power to stop me, when I couldn't stop myself!" she accused, her hands starting to burn with that red-blue flame.

"You know why I couldn't!" he hissed, his feelings torn with both anger and remorse.

"Which is exactly my point! How can someone as good as you fall in love with such a monster! Damn it, Anders. You are a seeker of Justice, but you only apply it when you see fit! How could you love her and not..." she was unable to finish her sentence, as tears began filling her eyes.

She leaned her temple against his chest and began to weep uncontrollably. Her fire retreated and Anders pulled her into his arms, while resting his cheek on her head.

"_Why are you comforting her? She humiliated us!_" Justice boomed.

"_She didn't mean it,_" Anders argued.

"_She did,_" Justice grumbled.

"_Tell me, are you more upset because she questioned us or because she was right?_" Anders asked solemnly.

"_I... do no longer know._"

Mira's legs gave way and Anders fell with her to the floor. She still shed tears, but she had become silent. He could feel her erratic breathing on his neck and the desire to kiss her was overwhelming. His mind played scenario after scenario of how he would comfort her. How his embrace would be more intimate and how he would pepper her with kisses and words of adoration, until she believed that she was not the monster she had convinced herself to be.

"I need to make this right," she whispered.

"I know," he replied.

* * *

Anders awoke on the couch the next morning to the rumbling of his stomach, as his nose sensed the aromas of freshly made bread, eggs and bacon. Last night, Mira had insisted that he stay the night and had offered him the guestroom, but as they had spent half the night talking, he ended up sleeping on the couch in the study. He could sense Justice's warnings about him spending too much time with Mira, and encouraging him to distance himself. But no matter how badly he wanted to heed the spirit's warnings, he found that he could not. Despite her being as damaged as he was, he found himself feeling whole while in her presence. They needed each other to gather the remnants of their souls, and should they merge their torn beings, they might eventually become one whole. His heart urged him to give up his struggles and give in to her, but would she even want that? She had not refused him as of yet, but she hadn't been very encouraging, either. Her remarks could be seen as nothing but friendly banter, and whenever anyone seemed to come close to her, she would distance herself. Someone else would have believed her to be shy, but Anders knew it was because she feared harming those around her. He knew, because he did the same. He was drawn from his gloomy thoughts when Mira entered the door with a tray of breakfast, and a smile on her face. For once, she did not seem as tired. She placed the tray on the table and sat down in an armchair.

"Good morning," she said sweetly.

"Good morning... You might want to be careful with spoiling me so much. I might not want to leave," he smiled suggestively, and though she blushed, she didn't meet his gaze.

"One of Sandal's enchantments gone wrong, and you'll be running for the hills," she smiled and grabbed a piece of bread.

"Nothing could scare me away from you," he said softly, and placed his hand on hers.

For a moment, she froze and looked at their joined hands. He could feel her skin getting warmer and her pulse accelerating, but she then pulled back her hand, acting like nothing had happened.

"I'm going to the Gallows today," she said nonchalantly.

"Are you crazy? You should stay away from there," Anders warned.

"I have to go there if I am to talk to Cullen," she replied.

"All right, I'll bite. Why do you need to talk to Cullen?" he said with annoyance.

"I am going to use my influence to convince him to reinstate Keran," she said with determination.

"You should be careful. If they find out you are no longer supportive of the templars... what if your money and position aren't enough? What if the Knight-commander turns on you? The thought of anyone hurting you... everything I have done to control this – I don't care - I would drown us in blood to keep you safe," he replied pleadingly, taking both her hands in his.

"Anders... I'll be fine... Don't risk anything for me." She spoke quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

"I would risk **anything** for you. I never thought I would meet a mage like you. Never dared hope that you would change as much as you have. I'm sorry, but I can't be anyone but who I am. There will be more violence, I know that. If you tie yourself to me I will only hurt you, but I will never sit by and do nothing while you endanger yourself," he said a little desperately, and he could feel her trembling.

A tear fell from her eye as she looked at him, at once appearing both frightened and entranced.

"Nothing would hurt as much as losing you, so if you care, you will not go to the Gallows again," she said breathlessly, before getting up and quickly walking out the front door.

Anders took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. Didn't she realise it was for her that he did the things he did? And what would she say if she ever found out about him and the mage underground? Not to mention just how often he entered the Gallows. He should not give in to her. It would only end in misery.

* * *

_Author's note: Special thanks to Lady Evania and Eva Galana for helping me with the information for this chapter. Your help was invaluable._

_Also thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing! As a matter of curiosity, one of my readers asked me who would win in a fight Mira and Mari, who do you think?_

_And thank you to Flint and Feather for being such a great support._


	11. Chapter 11 The Amell's survival

**The Amell's survival**

_"Nothing would hurt as much as losing you, so if you care, you will not go to the Gallows again."_

Anders heard Mira's voice ringing in his ear as he made his way to the Gallows. Like a thief in the night or deranged stalker he followed her, thanking the Maker that she hadn't brought Mongrel. He cursed her as he watched her from afar. She was going to the Gallows **alone**. If the templars decided to take her into custody, there would be nothing she could do. Worse, there would be nothing **he** could do, and the memory of Karl made him nauseous. He managed to get on the same boat as Mira and hid beneath a cloak he had stolen as he passed through Lowtown, much to Justice's dismay. He found himself wondering what Victor Amell would have said, seeing him like this. Anders chuckled under his breath. The Hero of Ferelden would probably have joined him. A mage who was as much a thief and a mercenary, and who had a temperament that was both grouchy, cynical and humorous. As likely to show mercy as he was to cut you down, and who acted with a calculating mindset rather than with his heart. Not that he was heartless, far from it, but Amell would never become a slave to his emotions. Anders would never forget the first time he realised this.

_Anders had just been recruited to the wardens by an old acquaintance from the circle called Victor Amell. He had become the Hero of Ferelden, joined the wardens and slain an Arch Demon and survived. The latter was unheard of. The more devout Andrastians believed that it was the Maker himself who had shielded their hero from an agonizing death. Anders believed it was probably just dumb luck. After all, Victor had aided a blood mage named Jowan in an attempt to flee the circle. When they were caught, and Jowan fled, Victor was saved any punishment by the former Warden commander Duncan, who recruited him. Victor had always been one lucky bastard. Since he was very young, First Enchanter Irving had favoured him, taken him as his personal pupil and shielded him from much of the templars' scrutiny. Irving had been terribly disappointed when his star pupil had shown such disregard for the circles rules, but it was later redressed when Amell saved the circle from abominations raging the tower._

_They were walking through the courtyard getting themselves acquainted with their new surroundings, when Anders stopped dead in his tracks and looked at a statue of Andraste, while giving a long whistle._

_"Look at that! Was Andraste really that much of a looker? Don't you think she would have been - I don't know - a barbarian?" Anders mused out loud._

_"Before you start humping the statue, just remember what she represents," Amell said calmly._

_"I know. I wonder what she would have thought of the circle. Locking up mages and forcing them to fight demons or be made tranquil," Anders pondered._

_"She was an insane woman, to whom equally insane people chose to listen. And after her death, other deranged people wrote tomes on her behalf, claiming to know her opinions. The whole thing is ludicrous," Amell replied with annoyed amusement, before continuing to walk away._

_Anders looked at him in complete disbelief. He was not devout himself by any means, but to hear someone speak in such blasphemous terms was rare, especially since they had both spent a lifetime in the circle, being preached to of the Maker's glory. _

_"Don't you believe in the Maker?" Anders found himself asking, and wished he could have hit himself for being so foolish._

_"No," Amell replied simply._

_"Then what do you believe?" Why could he not stop his mouth from talking?_

_A giant fireball flew directly at Anders and he was only just able to dodge it. He looked with astonishment at Amell, who was snickering with a dark expression, while Anders' heart was in his throat, his blood rushing through him._

_"Evade or die, fight or die and survive at all costs," Amell replied, striding along._

_Anders shook his head and grinned at his friend. He really was something else._

When Anders first met Mari, he had thought she was the same. A survivor, who had been hardened by the world around her. How wrong he had been. Despite their aggression and endurance, the distant cousins had nothing in common. Amell would often choose an aggressive approach, but he would never kill out of hand. He would rather turn or recruit those who crossed paths with him. He wasted no resources and took no pleasure in violence, though he applied it often, as he had little patience. Mari's bloodlust was atrocious and would put any darkspawn to shame. Both she and Amell fought for survival, but their means differed. Anders let out a huff as he was reminded of a conversation he'd once had with Mari.

_Anders had been in his clinic and was looking forward to talking with Hawke. She was fascinating, but at the same time, he already loathed her. The memory of how she had acted when Karl died... But perhaps it was just her way? He knew better than anyone how difficult it was to be a mage and an apostate. Maybe she kept her emotions at a distance to shield herself. It wouldn't be the first time he had seen a person act that way. And she had just recently lost her sister, so death was perhaps something she couldn't deal with. For that he couldn't blame her. And she was so beautiful, so strong and obviously talented. With her aiding his cause, perhaps they could avenge their fellow mages together. She didn't seem bothered or even interested in Justice at all, so maybe he had found a woman who would look past the spirit. Perhaps he would not be forced to live a life of solitude, after all? She walked into his clinic, her head held high and confidence in her every step, in a manner that made even her frail body seem intimidating._

_"Abomination," she greeted with a sideways smirk._

_"I'm not an abomination. Justice is a spirit," Anders replied, remaining calm._

_"Spirits don't possess people. Demons do. Ergo demon... creepy too," she asserted unimpressed, and jumped to sit on his desk without regard for the documents she was curling and ripping._

_"Fine! How would you do it? The templars have everything. For a thousand years they have had the knights, the lyrium, the bloody Maker on their side. You are lucky they never found you! Most of us, they hunt down before we have even learned our letters. Your parents are told they'll be punished if they ever ask about you. Stripped of their rank in the eyes of the Maker. And if you run away, they'll hunt you down, again and again and again," he replied heatedly, as Justice penetrated his resolve._

_"Luck? You know nothing!" she spat angrily._

_"Andraste's words were, 'magic should not rule over man'. It is not ruling simply to want the same freedom as any man. Don't other mages deserve the freedom you have had?" he asked, feeling discouraged._

_She jumped off the table and walked towards him, her eyes burning with a cold fury that had Justice twitching at the outermost part of his consciousness. She pressed herself against him, and for a moment he wondered whether she would kiss him or rip him to shreds._

_"If they want freedom, they have to take it. I will _**_never_**_ become a martyr. You speak of freedoms you know nothing of, and claim that they are given without a price. _**_Everything _**_has a price, and do not presume to know what payment I have made," she hissed._

_For the slightest moment, Anders thought he had seen something vulnerable in her. He felt a desperate need to know what had forced this anger forth in her. If he could calm the fire of wrath inside her, together they could make sure that no mage would ever suffer what he or she had. He reached out for her, his hand meaning to softly stroke her cheek. He had not expected with what violence she would respond. She took his arm and twisted it with such force that it nearly snapped out of its socket, and Anders dropped. Mari straddled him as he lay prone on the hard floor with his arm against his back. She drew her dagger and pressed the point to the side of his neck, drawing blood._

_"_**_Touch me again and I will kill you!_**_" she roared, and he could see the small amount of his own blood trickling from him, fuelling her magic._

Anders touched his neck. He still had the scar from that day. Who had he been trying to convince? Calm her? He couldn't even calm himself. He had thought that he and Justice had become an entity full of hatred and vengeance, but they held no fury compared to hers.

He turned his head to look at Mira leaning against the railing on the far side of the boat. Once again, he cursed the beautiful fall of hair that covered her face. It had become her mask, and he was unsure whether it was Mari or Mira she wished to hide. He saw a man approach her and she greeted him, her expression and body language impossible for Anders to read. Anders sighed at his own behaviour, as he recognised that jealousy was already making itself known. Why couldn't she even talk to a stranger without him giving in to feelings of envy and the overwhelming desire to possess her?

"_You sound like a demon! It's revolting!_" Justice scolded.

Anders sighed again. Justice was right, that he was not unlike a demon watching over her, waiting for her to slip and fall. Waiting for her resolve to fail her, so that he could what? Take advantage of her and possess her as his heart desperately desired?

"_To protect her,_" he reminded himself.

It would have seemed a lot more convincing if he had not sneered out loud as the man stood closer to Mira. Anders kept his distance from her and as they approached the Gallows, the detestable feeling in his gut spread throughout his being. It was only when the boat docked and Mira walked by, thankfully without noticing him, that Anders realised the man was Keran.

"_Great! Now I feel even more foolish,_" Anders groaned in his mind.

"_Good, you should,_" Justice replied with superiority.

Anders was about to turn around as shame overcame him, but his need to be certain she was safe was even greater. He walked into the Gallows and stood by one of the merchants, looking at some enchanted jewellery and daggers. Cullen was thankfully in the courtyard, and from his current location Anders could hear the conversation.

"Hawke, it's been some time since we have had the pleasure seeing you here. You are well I trust?" Cullen said politely.

"Quite well, thank you. I am here in regards to Keran," Mira replied, and Keran stepped up next to her.

"Hello, Knight-Captain," Keran greeted respectfully.

"Keran," Cullen nodded. "What is it you wish to discuss?"

"Cullen, I know that you have kept an eye on Keran for the past three years and as you can see, he has not shown any signs of demonic possession. Therefore, I was hoping you might consider reinstating him," Mira clarified with great empathy.

Anders found himself smiling at her compassion. She had no reason to care for this boy and his livelihood. Normally Anders wouldn't encourage anyone to join the order, but he did understand why Mira felt a need to make amends. Perhaps this would also show both Cullen and Keran that mages were in fact people, despite what the two templars had declared them not to be. Cullen sighed.

"It was you yourself who encouraged us not to keep him in the order. What could have happened to change your mind?" Cullen asked, sounding tired.

"At the time it was unknown, but now years have passed and as Keran is still not possessed, surely you cannot continue to stake his livelihood on something that might have happened," Mira reasoned.

"Knight-Captain, I swear I resisted. Please give me another chance," Keran pleaded.

From a distance, Anders could see Thrask approaching, and though Anders knew him to be a friendly templar, he did his best to hide behind his cloak.

_"Relax! You are drawing too much attention to yourself!" _Justice scolded.

_"What do you know? You were a warrior, not a rogue," _Anders groaned.

_"You are right. I would have preferred the direct approach. It's more righteous."_

_"Justice, this is difficult enough as it is. Do you have anything helpful to contribute?"_

_"No... Pardon me..."_

Anders turned slightly and looked over at Mira, and the increasing number of templars surrounding her. His throat tightened and his mouth went dry. This was ridiculous. He would never have been this worried if it was Mari and as far as they knew, Mira was still the Hawke they knew.

"Surely, we can give the boy another chance," Thrask encouraged.

"Please, Cullen," Mira pleaded softly.

The sound sent a shiver down Anders' spine, and contrary to what he had expected, it was not an unpleasant sensation. The plea was as soft as if spoken to a lover, and a vision of her expressing such things while his lips and hands explored her, made his head spin, despite the sting that it was the Knight-Captain's name she had uttered. He wondered how his own name would sound when she spoke it with adoration, desire, and in her peak of ecstasy. Anders had to bite into his hand to keep himself from moaning out loud.

"_You are pathetic_," Justice scoffed.

"_Shut up!_" Anders hissed back.

Slightly turning his head, he saw that Mira's plea was having almost the same effect on Cullen, who was raising a healthy blush and had difficulty keeping still. Anders knew Cullen from the tower in Ferelden. He had not become better at ease with women since. Cullen cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you are right. We can also keep a closer eye on him here. Very well, report to Thrask in the morning, Keran," Cullen replied.

"Thank you, Knight-Captain! Thank you so much!" Keran enthused, with great relief.

"You are welcome, and now you must excuse us," Cullen dismissed, nodding his goodbye.

Mira gently reached for Thrask's arm and he looked at her with surprise, while Keran ran over to his comrades to tell them the news. Anders noticed Mira picking up her purse and placing it in Thrask's hand. Luckily no one else noticed.

"I don't even have the right to ask for your forgiveness," Mira began, but the rest, Anders was unable to hear as her voice became a faint whisper.

Not that he needed to. He remembered all too well how they had found Thrask's mage daughter in a warehouse, captured by raiders. In her desperation, she had turned into an abomination and slaughtered her captors, and she had died as well. Mari had found a letter, and had afterwards threatened to expose Thrask, unless he paid her. Anders watched and saw Mira's head dropping forward, and the look on Thrask's face was one of both pity and surprise. The templar placed his hand under her chin, in a gesture not unlike that of a caring father, and made her look at him.

"You were a Ferelden refugee. Desperation has a tendency to bring out the worst in us, something that my poor Olivia found out as well. Thank you for returning this to me, and do not despair. I hold no grudge against you," Thrask said with a kindness that touched even Anders' heart.

"I do not deserve it... but thank you," Mira replied, truly humbled.

Thrask smiled and gave a little bow before walking away. Keran walked back to Mira, and his last few steps became a run before he snatched her up and spun her around. Mira gave a yelp and giggled nervously, trying even harder to hide behind her hair. Anders felt his hands tighten so hard that they ached, but this did not compare to the force of iron will he needed to keep his emotions in check.

"Thank you!" Keran exclaimed, and hugged her tightly.

"You are most welcome," Mira replied softly.

"I have to go and get my uniform, but perhaps we could meet again. What about the Hanged Man tonight?" Keran offered happily.

"I have to go to a noble party this evening, but how about Friday?"

"Perfect! Thank you again." Keran hugged her once more.

Anders slammed his fist into the booth where he stood, earning him a scowl from the owner. Distracted by the merchant, Anders jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Mira looking at him with heavy annoyance and piercing eyes.

"Idiot!" she hissed, crossing her arms.

"I can ex.." Anders began.

"No, I don't want to hear it. Let us just get out of here," Mira directed, looking at the slave statues with discomfort.

"Of course," he said, not bothering to hide his shame.

As they turned, Mira froze in place as she saw a mage walking over to her with determined steps.

"Grace... what did I do to her?" Mira asked, but Anders didn't get the chance to answer.

"Here to gloat? Don't think I didn't see you with that templar. Are you enjoying your freedom while you have left us here to rot?" Grace sneered.

Mira looked more disconcerted than Anders had ever seen her. Instinctively he stepped forward and leaned a little closer to Grace, who stared at him with unforgiving eyes.

"It's not what you think. I can't tell you how sorry I am, but please do not lose faith. There are those of us trying to help you," Anders whispered, and understanding seemed to light on Grace's face.

"Now, please leave before we attract any attention from the templars," he continued, and Grace nodded before walking away.

"She will never forgive me," he heard Mira whisper.

Anders turned to look at Mira and placed an arm around her before leading her out of the Gallows. For half an hour she said nothing, and on the boat she isolated herself. It pained him to see her like this.

"_Tell her about the underground. It might lift her spirits,_" Justice suggested.

"_Are you actually concerned for her?_" Anders asked with surprise.

"_This case of justice is not as simple as I would like. It is difficult to decide to whom she should make amends or if she should feel this suffering,_" Justice replied a little solemnly.

Anders noticed the spirit sounded regretful and empathetic, qualities he had feared his friend had lost completely at their merging. He walked up next to Mira and leaned against the railing, looking down into the water as she did. He leaned closer to her and placed one hand on hers. She gave him a questioning look, before retreating into her hiding.

"Be still," Anders said in a low voice.

He looked around carefully to make sure no one was nearby. He leaned closer and brushed her hair aside with his other hand, before touching his lips to her ear like lover's caress. As he began speaking in a whisper, he noticed a small tremble coming from her.

"I'm going to tell you something, but you must play along and don't answer. This is strictly confidential," he whispered, and waited for her to give a small nod of confirmation. He then continued, "I am one in a group of mages living free in Kirkwall, which helps others to escape. We have freed most of the Stark Haven mages, who Grace was a part of."

Mira gave a sigh of relief, and Anders imagined it longingly as a sigh of pleasure, given as though his lips were pressed to her neck. He came near to it, but she broke the serenity of the moment as she whispered.

"Let me help."

"No, you have too much involvement with the guard and nobility. I would have told you earlier, but I had to keep quiet for their sake and for yours," he whispered.

His lips still lingering at her ear, he noticed two young women looking at them and giggling, clearly thinking something entirely different was going on.

"_Are you sure this is different than what they assume?_" Justice asked.

Anders ignored the spirit and noticed Mira's expression becoming a little discouraged as she looked down at her own reflection.

"I promise, if I find an opportunity for you to help I will tell you straight away," he assured.

With a soft kiss next to her ear, he ended the conversation and pulled back, trying desperately to control his mind and body. Maker, if things continued like this, nothing in Thedas could save him, not even the mighty Victor Amell. Was fighting for survival the same as fighting for her? Was Anders' survival intertwined with being with her?

* * *

Another night. Another dream, wherein Anders would see both Mari and Mira, like sirens calling him to his doom. A nightmare of his obsessive need to make retributions for his sins by making Mari see reason and save her, only for her to degrade it into an obscure power play. One she would always win because she possessed something Anders had lost; a strong mind. And a heavenly dream, in which he saw Mira willingly return the affections he craved, with a passion that even in his waking state, would leave him breathless. Always the dreams ended with a merging of the two, and always they ended in agony. So knowing sleep was beyond his capabilities once again, Anders got out of bed. While searching for some occupation, it seemed that something had sought out him, as there was a knock on his door. He grinned as he opened the door and found Hawke looking up at him with a smile.

"Another nightly visit? If you continue like this, people will talk," he smirked with flirtation evident in his tone.

"Hush, and let in your patient," she smiled, trying to shrug off his advances.

"My patient?" he said with surprise, and Mira merely nodded as she passed him.

Inside, she took off her cloak and Anders swallowed. She was wearing a black formal gown, trimmed with white ribbon around the neck and waistline. It had no sleeves, but merely straps holding a length of transparent white fabric that served as a veil and a cloak. Her hair was again loose and looking even smoother than usual. As she swept her hair behind her ear, he noted her pearl earrings, and around her neck a black ribbon, with one pearl attached. She looked like a temptress who had invaded his dreams, and he had to pinch himself to be sure he was awake. She turned towards him and lifted her hand, giving him the most adorable pout he had ever seen. He then saw that her hand was bloody, scraped and bruised. He went to her and was for a moment, worried.

"How did you manage to get hurt at a noble party?" he wondered.

He examined her knuckles, then looked at her with a smile.

"Who did you punch?" he grinned.

"A wall," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"A wall?" he repeated, his grin growing wider.

"It was either that, or Sebastian's face. Unfortunately I listened to reason and hit the wall," she smirked deviously and he chuckled.

"So, what did the prince do that made the wall suffer on his behalf?" he asked with humour, as he cleaned her hand and began healing it.

"He didn't do anything wrong. It's just... he keeps on making excuses on my behalf and preaching about how everything was the Maker's intention. It's like he is pushing all the responsibility onto the Maker, while at the same time claiming that the Maker isn't obligated. If I do something, I am to blame and to be praised. I must suffer the consequences of my actions and some of what I have done should never be forgiven. I must take action, not just hand the responsibility over to a god that has long since left," she sighed and lowered her head.

Not thinking, Anders suddenly cupped her face with both his hands, as if terrified she would hide again. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, and he took in all the details of a face he felt he saw too rarely. Realising what he had done, he let go and smiled meekly.

"Sebastian can be frustrating, but that's not what is bothering you," he stated, and returned to attending to the hand.

"No... if I tell you something, will you hate me again?" she asked barely over a whisper.

"No, I don't think it's possible for me to hate you," he smiled softly.

She hesitated before taking a deep breath.

"I killed Bethany... the ogre was going for me and I sacrificed her like it was nothing... I killed my little sister." She began to tremble, but no tears fell, and for a moment Anders wondered if she had any tears left.

He let her lean against him and he offered what little comfort he could, well knowing it would never be enough.

"_I cannot bear the sight of her suffering... This path will not end well, my friend,_" Justice cautioned.

"_I know, but I have to tell her, Justice. I love her and she is all alone._"

"_But not tonight._"

"_No, not tonight._"


	12. Chapter 12 Lupo

**Lupo**

Anders was walking towards the Hanged Man and felt all his nerves quivering. He had promised himself that he would let Mira know how he felt about her. He knew that she would be doomed by association with him, but it became more evident that they needed each other with each passing day. She no longer had anyone who loved and cared for her as he did. She had her friends of course, but each night she would retreat to that large estate, alone. The images of her lying alone whimpering from her nightmares, tortured him. The knowledge that she would sit alone night after night, going through journals that were slowly wearing her down, was too much to bear. To see a suffering so much like his own reflected back at him was unbearable, especially because it was Mira's. He could no more turn his back on her than he could on the cause of mages. He would tell her everything and she could make the choice to run away from him, as she should, or stay with him, as he hoped.

Inside the Hanged Man, a band from Rivain was performing happy and joyful tunes, which in no way matched his contradicting emotions. He looked around the crowd of happy faces, as they were drinking, dancing and singing. Tonight he felt even more out of place than usual. Perhaps he could drink tonight. Surely one night of indulgence would do no harm.

"_Unwise. If the templars come and you are drunk, what then?_" Justice objected.

"_I miss it. One night is all I ask,_" Anders whined.

"_And how many times did the templars catch you in Ferelden because you were drunk?"_

"_At least twice... point..._" Anders sighed.

Anders had once told Isabella that he missed being drunk and that Justice wouldn't let him. Isabella had called the spirit a 'stick in the mud', but in reality Justice was looking out for Anders. Many saw Justice as a parasite that deprived Anders of the joys of life, but in truth the spirit merely applied good sense. He couldn't risk getting drunk if the templars should come looking for him. Many more lives than his own depended upon him maintaining his freedom. It was thanks to the spirit that Anders had not been caught this time, and had remained free for four years now. If he'd had Justice' good sense earlier, then maybe only one escape from the Circle tower in Ferelden would have been necessary. Just as he couldn't pursue a relationship with Mira unless he stayed aware of the dangers he put her in. Anders' heart sank. Justice was right when he said that Mira was a distraction, and distractions made him unreliable. If he became distracted in combat or even in his daily duties, he might lose awareness of something important that would eventually get them both killed. News of templar movements might slip his mind. He could become so consumed with her welfare during combat, that he might not see the killing blow coming for him. But was it a greater distraction being with her than it was pining for her at a distance? Neither he nor Justice knew for sure, but for now he could at least follow the spirit's advice regarding the alcohol and the temporary detachment it would provide.

So pushing away his urges, Anders walked through the crowd and upstairs to Varric's suite. Mira was sitting next to Isabella wearing a dress her pirate friend had probably loaned to her. It was deep purple with short sleeves, a black corset and she wore a red scarf bound around her waist. With her hair hanging loose, she looked almost as wild and untameable as Isabella. If not for her pale skin, she might even have looked like a native of Rivain. He was so mesmerised that he failed to see Keran sitting at the opposite side of the table from her, laughing at something she said. Anders felt that he was just as much a stranger in this room as he had been in the previous one. Merrill noticed him then.

"Anders! Come and sit down," Merrill said happily and patted on the empty seat next to her.

In truth, Anders was more interested in the vacant seat next to Hawke, but he couldn't bring himself to reject Merrill. He was still ashamed for his behaviour towards her weeks ago. He sat down and Mira looked at him and gave him a bright smile, while she continued talking to Keran. After a minute or so, Fenris came in the door and handed Mira a mug.

"I got your favourite," Fenris smiled, and took the seat next to her.

Fenris might as well have plunged his hand into Anders' chest and struck a blow to his heart. How did the elf know what her favourite was? Anders didn't even know that . It would seem the elf and Mira were getting closer than he had realised. She smiled sweetly at Fenris and took the mug.

"Thank you," she sighed contently, taking a sip.

Fenris sat down next to Hawke and reached for the bottle of wine on the table, drinking directly from it. Anders was suddenly glad that he had decided not to drink this evening, if it meant sharing it with the elf. Keran got up from the table and left with Isabella to enjoy the music downstairs.

"So have you learned more from the journal you found?" Fenris asked.

Anders felt another blow to his heart. He had thought himself to be the only one she shared those intimate details with - that it was only him to whom she came for comfort. It had been his only advantage over Fenris thus far, but Fenris knew as many details as he did himself. Perhaps even more. Anders placed a hand beneath the table and squeezed tightly around his thigh, trying to take hold of his emotions. His dilemma was that he was close to not even bothering any more.

"Just bits and pieces, nothing I would trouble you with," Mira replied vaguely with a smile.

"So charity goes only one way? You are happy to listen to my whining, but you are not willing to bother me with yours?" Fenris insisted, and Mira giggled.

"Perhaps I'm worried that your charity might run out. I'll save it for when I need your help with something mage related," she chuckled.

Fenris crinkled his nose and groaned.

"You always lead me to the strangest places," he smirked.

"I know, but it really is the right thing to help them," she said seriously.

"I'll trust you on that," Fenris replied, much to Anders' surprise.

The wolf's big eyes looked at Mira softly, and Anders saw her looking shy under the elf's gaze, though she pretended not to notice. Anders couldn't take anymore of watching Fenris flirt with her while she responded merely with amusement. In an attempt to interrupt this, Anders reached over the table and his hand hovered over her mug.

"May I?" he asked, displaying his most charming grin.

"Of course," she replied, and pushed the mug towards him.

To his disappointment, Fenris barely registered this action, and Anders felt foolish for a moment. Anders took a sip and tasted as if it were a matter of life and death that he must memorize the flavour. It was dark, nutty and sweet, almost red in colour and was clearly one of the better ales the tavern sold. He would remember it, so the next time he could bring it to her - show her that he also cared.

"_Why obsess over such an insignificant detail?_" Justice asked with astonishment.

"_It's not insignificant when you care for someone,_" Anders answered simply.

The spirit still didn't fully grasp it until Kristoff's memories flooded his mind. Justice' former host, a corpse passed away before Anders and Justice had even met. Simple memories about a dead man's widow whom Anders had never met, were now part of him as if the experiences had once been his own. Memories of how she would brush her hair, and what type of flower she preferred, slowly brought Justice to understand. The little things were often where people differed the most, and that made them important.

"Do you like it?" Mira asked with a cheerful expression.

"Yes, though it is a little too sweet for my taste," Anders replied, revelling in the fact that at this moment, she was paying him attention.

As he passed back the mug, their hands touched, and for a moment hers lingered on his. Anders considered taking her hand, but a joyful cheer from downstairs made them turn their heads. Looking out the door of Varric's suite, they could see Keran and Isabella dancing wildly.

"I think Rivani is feeling at home," Varric chuckled.

"It looks exciting? Should we go watch?" Merrill asked, looking to Hawke, who nodded and walked out the door.

Varric looked back and forth between Fenris and Anders.

"Well, I'll be joining them before you to go into a permanent state of broodiness," Varric chuckled and stood up.

"Broodiness?" Fenris repeated with amusement, raising an eyebrow as he stood up as well.

"Yes, you two should really see yourselves from this angle. I fear your faces might get stuck that way unless you cheer up," Varric noted.

"My face is the least of my problems right now," Anders grumbled back, following the others.

"See it from down here, Blondie, and it would be at least a close second on your priority list," Varric retaliated, with a sad seriousness.

Downstairs, the crowd had gathered in a circle around the people dancing. Isabella was, unsurprisingly, loud and sprightly, giving them a wink as she and Keran danced past. Anders stood next to Mira who was chuckling in delight. When she saw him, she stepped a bit back and slightly behind him. Anders would have been touched by this closeness if not for the fact he knew she did it to conceal herself. Just as she did with her hair and the cover of her long cloak. Thankfully, most people would simply regard her behaviour as shy, but Anders knew it was from shame. It pained him that she was ashamed of herself, and he would give anything to remove that burden from her. The dance came to a halt and a new was about to begin. Keran walked towards them and despite her efforts to keep hidden, he reached for Mira's hands and her eyes widened.

"Oh, nooooo," she objected.

"Come on, dance with me," he pressed.

"You don't understand. I have two left feet," Mira giggled nervously.

"What luck! I happen to have two right," Keran winked, and Anders found himself jamming hands into his pockets to prevent himself from dragging the templar away.

Mira sighed and declared defeat.

"Alright, let's see if your right feet can make up for my wrong ones," she giggled.

Anders nearly groaned his disapproval out loud, as he watched the templar dancing around with the woman he loved.

"_First Fenris, and now a templar. Could this night possibly get worse?_" he hissed in his mind.

"_Stop this acrimonious behaviour. This self-torment serves no purpose. She is only dancing with him, not devoting herself to him for eternity,_" Justice remarked tiredly.

"_You know what I feel. How can you expect me not to react?_" Anders objected heatedly.

"_This is what I meant by her being your distraction. Your infatuation with her has made you incapable of seeing reason, when in her presence,_" Justice replied with concern.

Anders rubbed his face. Why was Justice always right? Justice considered all his emotions to be impulsive, aggressive and unnecessary, which were what had corrupted his friend in the first place. Had Anders been more aware of these feelings before, Vengeance might never have possessed them both. All they could do was be grateful that their episodes occurred only rarely. Most of the time they could contain them. Especially after Mari had become Mira, a lot of their anguish had been banished. Still, Anders could not relax or ever fully trust himself, in fear that he knew of only one other person to whom he might be able to relate... Mira. As she danced past him, Anders noticed Mira getting more uncomfortable by the minute, though she tried to laugh it off.

"Help me!" she mouthed, as they danced near him.

At their next passing Fenris interrupted her and Keran, and Mira looked grateful.

"I'm returning to Hightown. I thought you might want me to accompany you home," Fenris offered to her.

"Yes, thank you. Goodnight, everyone," Mira smiled and walked out of the tavern with Fenris.

Anders stayed only a half hour longer, trying to conceal his agony and jealousy, before he made his lonely way to Darktown to a cold clinic, his empty bed (that was nothing more than an unstable cot) and a worn blanket with holes.

* * *

A few days had passed since that night, and Anders was desperately trying to think of anyone and anything but Mira. He tried not to remember the dimples that formed in her cheeks when she laughed. Tried not to see her deep eyes staring at him with admiration whenever he closed his own. Not to recall the softness of her lips, as her tongue brushed against his with passion. Not to envision himself sweeping her smooth hair from her face as his mouth claimed hers. Not to hear the sounds of desire that would escape her, and with what affection his name would spill from her lips, like a hymn just for him. And not in the slightest seeing before his closed eyes, how the elf's lips would mark her skin, while a gasp was her only reply. Or how she would laugh at Fenris' snide comments about mages. He tried and failed. Frustrated, he threw himself down on one of the cots and it creaked ominously under his weight. He loved her so much, but the thought of harming her ached even more. She was the only one who had made his existence bearable, and Anders had to laugh at the irony. How many times had he wished for her to change? How many times prayed that somewhere inside her, there was saint capable of love and compassion? For years, he had been holding on to a shred of hope that she would support his cause. Endless nights, he had spent chanting his wishes and desires with the hope that they would somehow make her love him in return. And now she was the embodiment of all of it, and he couldn't be with her for fear that he would break the only person he couldn't live without.

With his face down in the pillow, he uttered a rending cry. He turned to his side and held his hands over his heart, attempting to dull his pain, and he repeated, "I love you, Mira. I love you," whispering his desperate prayer.

The door of his clinic was opened with a suddenness that made Anders bolt up. His blood ran cold when he saw Fenris enter, carrying Hawke in his arms, with Isabella right behind him. Hawke was limp and unconscious. Anders ran over to them as Fenris placed her on a cot. Anders sat down and began checking her vitals.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling.

When neither of them replied, Anders turned momentarily and saw that Fenris seemed highly agitated. Isabella stood behind him with her arms crossed, giving Fenris an icy look. Anders turned back to Hawke and noticed some bruising on her neck. He pulled down her collar and saw that her entire neck was bloodied and bruised, marked with a handprint and scratches. Someone had tried to strangle her. Anders began healing her. When her breathing returned to normal, so did his own, and Anders stroked her cheek lovingly before turning to the others.

"Again, how did this happen?" he demanded.

"Tell him," Isabella insisted, glaring at Fenris.

Fenris gave her a deadly look.

"I did it," Fenris sneered.

"You did **what**?!" Anders growled, jumping to his feet as blue flared through his eyes.

"You don't know what she did! **She** was the reason Hadrianna found me! She had contacted Hadrianna and when we killed Hadrianna, she was about to contact Danarius! **She betrayed me**!" Fenris roared, flaring blue as well.

"Then why did she kill Hadrianna?" Anders berated.

"Because Hawke wanted to prove to Danarius that she was more powerful!" Fenris bellowed.

Another flash of blue consumed Anders' entire body.

"Anders..." Mira's voice sounded, low and pleading.

It took all of Anders' control not to rip off the elf's head, but he knew that Mira would not want him to. So instead he quickly turned to Mira and sat down next to her. He took several deep breaths, and Fenris should be thankful. Had she died, so would he.

"Shh... try not to talk," he soothed, stroking her hair.

"Let him explain... promise..." she said barely above a whisper, looking at him with kind but pained eyes.

"I promise," he whispered, and one of her hands took his.

"How do you know this?" Anders hissed the question at Fenris, not trusting himself to turn.

"She came to me this evening and informed me of what she had planned," Fenris replied with irritation.

"Are you expecting me to believe that Mira contacted Danarius to hand you over to him?" Anders scoffed.

"No, but Mari Hawke would have," Isabella interrupted, trying to keep the two men from coming to blows.

Anger flared in Anders eyes as blue abruptly infused them. Mira squeezed his hand.

"Please..." she pleaded in a raspy voice, and Anders took another deep breath.

"So, Mira discovered that, before she lost her memory, she was planning to give you to Danarius. And when she found out, she went directly to you. I assume this was to warn you that it might have happened and to beg your forgiveness," Anders sneered.

"Yes," Fenris sighed, for the first time seeming a little remorseful.

"And you got so angry that you attacked her?" Anders stated, his voice simmering with fury.

"Yes."

Anders stood up and took a few angry steps towards the elf, breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring, his blood raging through him. Only Isabella's soft touch on his arm prevented Anders from going closer to Fenris, who gave the healer a deadly look, while his tattoos began glowing.

"And did she struggle? Did she fight back as you attacked her? Tell me why she is covered in bruises and I don't see a single one on you!" Anders snarled.

"No, she didn't," Fenris replied, his hands opening and closing, ready for a fight.

"Then why did you harm her?" Anders demanded.

"Venhedis! I realised my mistake and I brought her to you. What more do you want?!" Fenris seethed.

Anders powerfully felt the mana pulsating in his veins and Justice nearing the surface. Only Mira's voice brought him back.

"Anders, you promised..." she reminded him sweetly.

Anders turned to see her sitting up in the cot, her hair falling forward like silk, her deep blue-green eyes pleading to him. He managed to force a soft smile for her and nodded before turning back to the elf.

"Get out!" Anders sneered in a low, deadly tone.

Fenris began walking out, when Anders called after him;

"Understand that the only reason you are alive, is because she is," Anders gritted, giving Fenris a lethal gaze.

Fenris nodded in response and gave Mira a fond look, before leaving the clinic with Isabella. Anders turned back to Mira and sat down next to her, helping her to lie back on the cot. He began healing her again.

"There is nothing more you can do," she smiled.

"He almost killed you. Why didn't you fight back? You could have prevented him from doing this to you," Anders asked, his voice filled with emotion.

"Justice," she whispered.

And with that, Anders lowered his head, while her fingers ran through his hair. She was trying so hard to make amends for everything she had done, but he didn't want her to pay the price. He didn't want Mira to pay the price of justice for Mari's actions. Then suddenly, he felt a part of him going against everything he believed. Perhaps his love for her could never be merged with the path he had chosen. The path led by Justice.

"Anders, my chest hurts," she whimpered suddenly.

"Did he...? Of course he did. I'm so sorry - I didn't realise," Anders apologized.

Without a thought, he opened her tunic and placed his hands on her skin and breast band over her heart, filling the area with his healing magic. Her heart had suffered damage, but thankfully it was not difficult for him to heal. When done, Anders took a blanket and covered her. He regarded her softly and stroked her hair and cheek. She looked so weak and tired.

"Why would you go to him alone? You must have known he would react this strongly," he sighed.

"I couldn't waste any time. I have made Varric track down any missives that might have been sent, but what I found in the journal was written only the day before I lost my memory. I was only considering it apparently, and I don't think I – she had contacted Danarius yet. But Fenris needed to be aware of it, nonetheless," she explained.

"I understand that, but you shouldn't have done it alone," he admonished, more with worry than anger.

"I had only just started to gain his trust, and it's difficult for him to rely on others. I wanted to show him that despite who I might have been, I would never do such a thing, and always protect him from the magister. I would not have seemed trustworthy showing up with a group to back me up," she clarified with sadness.

Anders sighed before nodding with understanding, as he stroked her fondly again.

"He's a hypocrite. All this time, he's been saying I have no control over myself, and then makes an attack on you when you try to protect and warn him," he said with agitation.

"He has suffered so much. I don't blame him for his reaction. I'm sorry for it," she replied with melancholy.

"Sorry? The beast nearly killed you!" Anders furiously objected.

"I'm sorry I lost my friend. Surely you can relate to that," she returned, with irritation and disappointment.

Anders looked at her in utter disbelief. Fenris had tried to kill her and still she defended him. She was so forgiving and loyal, that Anders felt that none of them deserved her. If only the flaw in her brain had been corrected earlier, this gentle soul could have been spared so much agony. In a way, Anders had come to see Mari as an illness and Mira as the victim of it. There was so much he wished he could undo. Anders managed to give her a small smile and again took her hand in his.

"He might forgive you yet," he tried to comfort.

"I don't think so... it would be similar to have given the templars the exact location of your clinic and telling them to make you tranquil. And then afterwards saying that I knew they were coming, just not when. I don't deserve to be forgiven for this," she replied, turning over on her side, hiding herself from the world and from Anders.

* * *

_Author's note: Sorry Fenris fans. I know I wrote him pretty angry in this one, but in all fairness I don't blame for reacting this way. Just so you know, I love him too;)_


	13. Chapter 13 Mari's Lament

****_**Author's Note PLEASE READ:** Warning this chapter contains some horrific descriptions. If you are easily affected please be cautious when you read about the fade. Avoid the parts in italic and the bits in between should give you an idea of what had happened without the imagery. I hope you enjoy it and thanks to all those who reviewed and Flint and Feather for beta reading.**  
**_

**Mari's Lament**

The next few weeks, Anders and Mira worked closely together. Mira had found a way to actively help mages around the city, with the rescue of an apostate captured by raiders. And when she found a bounty poster for three apostates, she travelled around Kirkwall to find and warn them. And Anders' infatuation with her grew. He had not thought it possible, but his passion for Mari was slowly drowning in the love he felt for Mira. He still kept himself from expressing his feelings for her. He still had nightmares about forcing Mari into submission, which turned into him punishing Mira instead. He needed to get hold of that part of himself before anything good could come of his emotions. If he ever harmed her, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Then there was of course, the business with Fenris. The elf had not spoken to her since the night that he had brought her to the clinic, battered and bruised. Though Mira didn't speak of it, he knew that it pained her. Both Bodahn and Varric had confirmed that no missives had been sent by Hawke around the time the incident with Hadrianna had occurred. Varric had been the one to inform Fenris of this. But those were dire thoughts for another time, as Anders, Varric and Mira were walking through Low town.

"You're kidding! Gamlen didn't really ask you for money to go to the Rose," Anders chuckled.

"Not with those words, of course. I think his exact words were, 'a man got needs'," she replied in a deeper slightly rougher voice.

"You didn't give it to him, I hope," Varric smiled.

"Well..." she replied while biting her lip.

"You didn't!" Anders chuckled with disbelief.

"What else could I do? He is my uncle. Actually I think he had some outstanding debt that needed to be settled. And you both know how it is when you owe the Coterie money," she grinned, while Anders groaned and Varric chuckled.

"Varric, couldn't you talk to Gallard for me? He likes you," Anders asked.

"Well, both Varric and I told you not to play," Mira pointed out.

"Yes, but I did it anyway, and now the Coterie has an IOU for my right ear," Anders said with regret, touching his endangered ear.

"Gallard won't collect on that. He's got enough ears of his own," Varric dismissed.

"You didn't hear him admiring mine all night, and saying that he's always wanted a hat made of human ears. And he called a hatter," Anders objected.

"You are such a fool," Mira laughed.

"Oh, fool am I?" Anders retorted, faking offense.

"Yes, a cute fool, but a fool none the less." She turned her head to cover herself with her hair, but Anders just managed to catch a glimpse of a smile and a faint blush.

He wanted to retaliate and come out with some flirtatious remark, but most of the time he was afraid she would just shy away like a frightened critter. The fact that she was opening up this much at all, was rewarding. So instead he just smiled, and Varric cleared his throat.

"Look on the bright side. Losing your ear will add to your tortured look. Some women really like that," Varric winked and looked at Mira who was walking ahead.

"Don't you think she has trouble enough as it is, without being involved with someone with my... condition?" Anders replied and looked around a little nervously.

"You are both trouble. I was hoping that if you were together, you would attract the same trouble and thereby lessen the amount of trouble," Varric replied.

"Are you actually listening to yourself right now?" Anders wondered.

"Of course. For the most part, I am the only one worth listening to," the dwarf grinned as they walked through the doors of the Hanged Man.

Inside, Fenris was sitting and drinking with Isabella, but as soon as Hawke entered, the elf got up and walked right past her without as much as a look, and left the tavern. Mira looked downcast, but not surprised as her gaze turned towards the floor and slowly she walked up to Varric's suite.

"If you'll talk to Waffles, I'll talk to the elf," Varric suggested, and Anders nodded.

Isabella was about to walk after Mira, but when she then exchanged meaningful glances with Anders, he followed her up alone. Mira was standing by the fire looking into the flames, and it took Anders a second look to realise that her own hands were on fire. Her magic tended to do that when she was upset, but he had no idea if she had control over it or not. He walked over to her and looked down at her with a soft smile. She returned his with a sad one, and her fire retreated.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"What good would it do? The one I should talk to about it won't even acknowledge my presence," she sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

"I... I just thought you and Fenris... and that you might need someone to talk to," Anders said softly, trying to conceal the pain of the possibility that there might have been more between them.

She smiled a little at that comment and looked at him.

"Fenris and I were just friends. We could never be anything more, as I will have to take a path that he cannot... does not want to follow. His friendship is rare enough. I never expected more," she replied with a soft smile, returning her gaze to the flames.

Anders could not determine whether she actually felt something for the elf and simply wouldn't admit it, or if she never realised the way Fenris had looked at her. In either case he was sorry that Fenris had hurt her, but thankful that she was here with him, instead.

"So what is this path you are going to take?" he asked, to change the subject.

"Well, so far, to make right some of the wrongs from my past. I still haven't given up on finding a way to undo tranquillity and I did hear someone mention something about dismantling the circle... now who could that possibly be?" she smirked mischievously, as she pretended to ponder.

Anders felt his heart thundering in his chest and he leaned forward to kiss her. Her breathing became heavy, while her eyes slowly closed, but at the last moment she pulled away. Anders looked at her, feeling confused and hurt.

"I'm not Mari," she whispered.

Anders was about to reply, when Varric and Isabella walked in on them.

"Oh, Waffles you have to hear this!" Varric said cheerfully.

Anders sighed. It was probably for the best anyway.

* * *

A few days later, Mira entered the clinic with Fenris, Aveline and Varric right behind her. Anders shot from his seat and glared at the elf with furious rage.

"What is **he** doing here?" Anders growled, gently puling Mira to him.

"Easy there, Blondie," Varric said calmly.

Mira rested her hands on his chest and Anders forced his gaze from the elf to look at her, instead.

"We talked about this. Remember your promise," she said softly.

Anders sighed his defeat and began examining her for injuries.

"I didn't harm her, mage!" Fenris sneered with offense.

"Odd, since last time you came here with her, you had nearly killed her," Anders replied angrily, not looking at the elf at all.

"Anders, please calm yourself and hear what they have to say," Aveline suggested, with a kind look.

This made him relax a little. He knew that Aveline would protect Hawke, should Fenris get out of hand. Anders drew a breath of relief, now knowing that Mira was all right and the smile she gave him in return, could calm even Justice's fury.

"Not that I am not happy to see you, but why are you here?" he then asked, not moving away from Mira.

"I want to undergo the Harrowing," Mira said softly.

"What?! Why would you do that?!" Anders cried, horrified.

"Because I need to know if I can resist a demon, and I want to prove to the world that there are responsible mages outside the circle. Should I undergo a Harrowing of my own free will, then I will have proven that," Mira explained.

Anders turned to look at Fenris, with fury burning in his veins.

"**You** convinced her of this!" he roared, fear more evident than his anger, and turned again to Mira. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to prove anything to **him**," he hissed, pointing at Fenris.

"Perhaps she needs to prove it to herself," Fenris replied coldly.

Mira raised her hand and placed it on Anders cheek.

"I was the one to decide this and no one suggested it," she said kindly.

"Do you know that it entails letting a demon into your mind? You could... **You?!**" Anders exploded with sudden understanding, and looked at Fenris. "That's why you are here - to kill her if she turns into an abomination!" he howled.

"I am here to finish, what I am certain you will not," Fenris replied.

"You mean after weeks of refusing to talk to her, now you get the opportunity to finally kill her and you are going to take it!" Anders cried.

"Do not presume to know my motives, mage!" Fenris hissed back.

Before Anders could answer, Mira placed both hands on his neck, while her thumbs caressed his jaw.

"Please, Anders, you are the only one who knows how the Harrowing is done. Please help me," she pleaded with a soft gaze.

_"She is strong. She will not fall prey to any demon," Justice comforted._

_"You are agreeing with this?" Anders asked, unbelieving._

_"No, but you cannot deny her anything, so what is the point in arguing?" _

Anders looked back between her and Fenris, his frustration plain for everyone to see, and he didn't care. Gently, Mira drew his forehead down to rest on hers.

"I brought Fenris, so you would not have to take the life of another you cared for. I need to be certain that I am able to resist a demon before I encounter one outside the fade... where no one but myself is at stake. Please help me do this, dearest," she whispered in such a low voice, he barely heard her.

In fact, he wasn't quite sure that he'd heard the endearment or if it was just his imagination. He did know that had there not been so many eyes, he would have crushed her lips beneath his own, and never let her go again. Anders sighed his repulsion.

"Alright, but I will be going with you into the fade," he insisted.

"Aren't the mages supposed to do this alone?" Aveline questioned.

"Mages aren't supposed to do this at all!" Anders countered heatedly.

The Harrowing was just one of many injustices placed on circle mages.

"The rules are there for a reason," Fenris argued.

"That might be so, but I'm with Blondie on this one. I want Waffles back in one piece," Varric said with a smile.

"Agreed, now that she is finally starting to do some good." Aveline smiled fondly at Mira.

Anders rubbed the bridge of his nose and gave a loud sigh.

"Someone needs to get Merrill. We need her to maintain the spell while we are in the fade," Anders clarified.

"I'll go get her, and you'd better come with me, Fenris," Aveline said sternly.

Fenris looked at Anders for a moment, with something like anger burning in his eyes. He then nodded and followed Aveline out. Varric sat down on one of the cots and pulled out his note book, no doubt to write about yet another selfless act performed by his heroine. Anders gently took Mira by her elbow and led her a little further back to the clinic.

"Has Fenris as much as spoken a word to you for the past few weeks?" he enquired, trying to keep his annoyance at bay.

"No, he only came because I had Varric ask him... I don't think he will ever forgive me. And how can he? What I did was inexcusable," she sighed with regret.

"I can understand why you might be tempted," he replied, smirking wickedly.

"Anders!" she hissed, and swatted his arm.

"I was only kidding," he chuckled.

"You are incorrigible!" she sneered, trying very hard to hide the smile forming on her lips.

"I know... And you are crazy for doing this," he scolded.

She didn't answer, but merely focused on getting everything ready.

When Aveline returned with Fenris and Merrill, all was ready. Anders avoided looking at Fenris entirely and just had to trust that the others wouldn't let him harm Mira. Anders placed the lyrium in the center of a circle of runes and had Mira lie on a blanket on the floor inside it. He looked down at her and took a trembling breath.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked seriously.

"Yes, and thank you," she smiled.

"Don't thank me yet, and you'd better come back, do you hear?" he threatened with a smile.

Anders then turned to the others.

"While in the fade, my body might start to glow, but I'm not certain since I have avoided the fade since Justice. Just don't let the beast kill her or me, unless you are absolutely positive that there is no way around it. So Merrill is the one to say if it needs to be done," Anders instructed, and looked at Merrill.

"You want us to listen to the witch?" Fenris spat.

"Yes we will, Fenris. She knows more about this than any of us," Aveline replied firmly.

"Be careful, you two," Merrill smiled and began the ritual.

Slowly, Anders and Mira drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It had been years since Justice had left the fade. It felt as if ages had passed since he felt the essence of the fade pass through his being. This ever changing world had been his entire existence for a time that could not be measured. He felt himself being rejuvenated as it surrounded him, and not until then did he realise just how tired both he and Anders were. Didn't appreciate how they both struggled with maintaining their calm as the physical plane changed at a slow pace. Time was a concept not known in the fade. Time was of no consequence, and the world would change so swiftly that the perception of waiting was obscured. Demons knew of the concept, he supposed, as they would have to wait for the right moment to strike at their victims. Demons were the enemy, and in the world beyond the fade, punishment for the demons' crimes fell on their victims. It was an injustice that had become his obsession. And he would see it made right. Perhaps one day mortals and spirits would work together to destroy the real threat, the demons themselves. Then, spirits and mortals could coexist in harmony. Justice looked up at the landscape the fade had created before him, and took enjoyment in the fact that he could move on his own. He felt Anders stir beneath, and knew his regret that Justice had become a prisoner within his host. Shackled to Anders' body and to his every decision.

"Anders?" a sweet voice said softly.

In the lower presence of his mind Justice heard Anders chant, "Please don't hurt her." Justice would have been offended if not for the memories of nightmares that haunted them both. He turned to see Mira approach him slowly. He had not recognized just how timid she seemed, not just at present, but in general. Always fearful that the next person she met, would be someone she had harmed. No wonder she hid. She looked at him closely, before smiling.

"Justice... A pleasure to meet you," she said politely, and the spirit was astounded.

"You as well... we should hurry. The sooner we get this over with, the better," Justice suggested, and led the way through the fade.

Justice stopped so suddenly that Mira walked into him, but he hardly noticed.

"Be wary, I feel a demon close by," Justice sneered, reaching for his staff.

"Closer than you think, little spirit," the demon chuckled from behind them.

They turned to see a large pride demon watching them, and unconsciously Justice pulled Mira to him in order to protect her. Twice the height of Justice, its shoulders wide-spread, its skin scaly, and having four eyes, sharp teeth and horns, the pride demon looked as fearsome as any High Dragon and was far more dangerous.

"You will not prey upon her," Justice roared.

"That is not for you to decide. Let me introduce myself, little one. I am Hybris, and I can sense your desire. You desire power - the power to undo whatever your past transgressions may have been," Hybris purred.

"I want nothing from you," Mira said with defiance.

"All the lives you have destroyed! Could you really be so selfish as to turn down my offer? I could help you undo tranquillity - mend the scars you have created in others. Give you the power to bestow upon your love what he desires most," Hybris rumbled with the charm only demons could disgorge.

"Do not listen to it. He means only to deceive you," Justice cautioned.

"You are forgetting your place, little spirit," Hybris hissed.

"If I accept your offer, I will be no different than what I was. Stay away from me, or I will show you power and wrath that can be achieved without your help," Mira warned calmly.

Hybris looked her over carefully, while Justice was filled with admiration. He would not have thought her as strong as this, her timid nature making her surroundings belie just what strength was hidden below it. Even Hybris seemed taken aback, but Justice knew this was far from over.

"Such a tender and amiable soul. But that was not always so. Let us see what is hidden beneath your sweet innocence, shall we?" Hybris purred with satisfaction.

Mira fell to her knees, struggling to catch her breath while cradling her head, and the fade changed before them. As in a play, distant memories better forgotten, emerged before them.

* * *

_Mari was standing next to the crib, enjoying the quiet. There had been so much noise lately, and her mother was always crying. Ever since the twins had been born her mother had been terribly sad, and her father worried. He was constantly watching over either the twins or her mother. Her mother would have trouble getting out of bed. She could no longer cook, and even feeding the twins seemed draining on her. The twins were evil. They hurt her mother. Their birth had brought nothing but misery. Her father had told her that her mother was sick, and it sometimes happened when women had children. They would become terribly unhappy and couldn't do anything beyond taking care of their baby. So her father had done everything himself, even to taking care of the twins. So he was always tired. She didn't want her parents to hurt so much. So she would make everything quiet again. Then her mother would be well and her father would regain his strength._

_"_**_Mari! Stop!_**_" her father screamed, horrified, running into the room._

_He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crib, before quickly removing the pillow Mari had held over the twins' heads. Her father was pale and he looked upset._

_"Oh, Maker. Bethany..." he breathed, tears forming in his eyes._

_A blue glow emanated from his hands and surrounded Bethany. Then the noise came back. The twins began to cry. This was not right. She had meant for it to be quiet, so that her mother would get better. Malcolm picked up Bethany and cradled her, kissing her head as he sighed with relief. Mari sat down and crossed her arms. He had ruined her plan to help. When the twins finally calmed again, her father looked at her with fury burning in his eyes. He walked over to her and picked her up by the arm._

_"It hurts!" she whined._

_But his grip didn't loosen. He dragged her outside and forced her to sit down. _

_"What in the Maker's name were you trying to do?" he shook her, and anger was plain on his face._

_"Please stop, papa. It hurts," she whimpered with tears streaming down her face._

_"You could have killed them! Do you understand that?" he asked, his eyes still filled with fury._

_"They made mother cry. I didn't want to kill them, I just wanted them to be quiet," she cried._

* * *

Tears streamed down Mira's face as she looked angrily at the demon. Justice could not comprehend how such a young innocent child could perform such a deed, but within his consciousness, Anders reminded him that the world looked differently through a child's eyes. Not to mention the flaw within Mari's head.

"You were willing to sacrifice your siblings' lives for your mother's wellbeing, but now you reject my offer to help hundreds of your kind, when all you risk is your own." Hybris made mocking, clucking sounds of disappointment.

"Do not listen to it. You have that strength within you already. What he offers will not help you, only himself," Justice warned, looking down at Mira.

"I know," she hissed, anger flaring in her eyes as she watched the demon.

"Do you now? Perhaps more persuasion is in order then," Hybris intoned, as the fade changed again.

* * *

_Mari enjoyed the way the metal sounded and it was fun to feel the force behind every swing. It made her feel powerful, in control. Finally there was something she __**could**__ control. She looked up as she heard a shriek. A boy gaped at her with horror. An older boy on his way to becoming a man, and he shrieked like a girl._

_"What did you do to my dog?!" he demanded, his eyes watering with tears._

_She looked down at the mabari on the ground before her. Its skull was crushed and its tongue part separated from the rest. It had bitten it in half at one of her strikes. She stared at the boy, who looked truly afraid. And he should. She revelled in the fear he felt. She lifted the shovel and beat it into the beast, proud of herself when the blood splatter hit the dog's owner._

_"Are you blind as well as stupid?" she snickered._

_"I should _**_kill_**_ you!" he growled back._

_"As if you could!" she hissed and lifted the shovel._

_"_**_Mari!_**_" her father's voice echoed through the valley._

_It seemed that all he ever said to her lately was shouted like that. There was a time when he had said her name tenderly, but those days became far and few between. He looked at the dog as he approached, not even appearing shocked. There was never fear in his eyes anymore, only disappointment. The boy approached him._

_"Your little bitch killed my dog!" the boy cried ferociously._

_"Yes, I can see that. I will take her home and come by your house this evening." Malcolm sighed heavily._

_He reached for her arm and led her away. He looked sad and bitter. She didn't understand why she couldn't do anything right, why she always managed to upset him._

_"I did it for Carver," she said quietly._

_"I know," Malcolm sighed._

* * *

Mira tried to look away, but Hybris bound her with magic and forced her to look at the maimed animal she had tortured to death.

"This creature merely did its master's bidding, not unlike the elf you hold in such high regard. Was this hound not the first innocent victim slaughtered by your rage?" Hybris mused with condescension.

"Do not listen. You did it in order to protect someone you cared for, who was being hunted unjustly," Justice argued heatedly.

"Yes, so willing to sacrifice anyone else but yourself. You are just a selfish little girl, who turns down my generous offer," Hybris goaded.

"I am not selfish anymore!" Mira cried in defiance.

"Such impudence... But unlike you, I know all of you, all of the horrors hidden within your mind, that you can no longer recall. You see little one, you weren't that selfish before, either," Hybris grinned maliciously.

Justice felt every hair on his body rise as the fade changed. The worst was only yet to come.

* * *

_Mari was glad that she had been able to convince her father to let her attend school like the other children. They had recently moved to a new little village, and she wanted to make friends. She had not succeeded however, and it had turned out horribly. Around the classroom, the others would look at her with fear. The girls had been cruel in the beginning until one day, Mari had enough and cut off all of one girl's hair. She had used a sleep spell, but no one knew. She had warned them all that if anyone told on her, she would do the same to them. The boys had paid her attention when she first arrived, but not any longer, and the reason was their teacher, Barren._

_Another day was over and again she was given detention, but it was not because she had been naughty. Her father and mother had thought she must be, and were always cross with her. Little did they know. She sat in her spot and Barren sat in his chair, gesturing for her to come closer._

_"Come here, Mari," he said softly._

_"I don't want to," she refused angrily._

_He got up and walked towards her with angry steps. He grabbed her chin and made her look at him._

_"Now, you little whore. I know what you and your father are. Do as I say or I will turn you and your entire family over to the templars! And they will do far worse to you than I will," he growled._

_Mari's eyes filled with tears._

_"Do you understand?!" he demanded, and she nodded._

_He opened his pants and pulled off his belt. He looped it around her neck and forced her mouth forward, the belt in place should she try to bite him, he would be able to choke her. His free hand held her hair tightly._

_"You see little one, the only thing that matters in this world is power. Do you think that if you told your father of this, he would believe you? Do you think he would stop you from doing this and sacrifice your family for it?" he cooed in a soft voice._

_He groaned loudly and observed nothing beyond the pleasure. But Mari noticed the door opening. She was relieved when she saw Bethany and Carver standing there. They looked for a moment and ran off. Now she would only have to wait, and they would bring help and her nightmare would finally be over... except no one ever came._

* * *

Justice had to turn away from the scene open before him, as this man violated the apparition of little Mari over and over. He tried to ignore the rage he felt towards a man he knew no longer lived, all the while hearing the cries of a young Mari and the whimpers of Mira. He knew a sickness in his gut that he had never thought possible, and underneath his skin he could feel Anders' agonizing empathy alongside his own.

"**Stop it!**" Justice demanded.

"Oh, little spirit, you know very well that she must be the one to do it," Hybris chuckled darkly.

And so the horrors continued.

* * *

_When Mari came home she was once again scolded for causing trouble, and her siblings had mentioned nothing of what they had seen. So it continued, until one day Barren went too far. She was sitting on his lap as he was touching her, and she felt disgusted with herself._

_"Today we are going to try something new," he purred._

_He put his hand under her dress and began pulling at her underwear. She struggled to get free._

_"No! Get off me, you disgusting piece of shit!" she roared._

_"Sit still. I have the power, remember?!" he growled._

_She looked at him, suddenly calm. She smirked at him and grabbed his collar, pulling him close for a kiss. He groaned at the unexpected willingness, but didn't stop her. She deepened it just enough for him to give his tongue freely and she bit it as hard as she could, feeling the blood pour down both their chins. She had never tasted anything so sweet. He yelped cries of pain, and she used the moment to get away. She smirked at him again._

_"You are wrong. _**_I _**_have the power!" she grinned._

_She channelled her magic using his blood to fuel it, and he begged and screamed in agony. Then she released a massive fireball and couldn't help but laugh as he burned to death. _

_**This time**__ her father showed up, and he looked horrified when he saw the burned corpse of her teacher. He grabbed her arm and dragged her away in all haste._

_"Have you any idea what you have done?" Malcolm hissed, tears flowing from his eyes._

_"He was a filthy bastard. He deserved it!" Mari sneered._

_"You killed him, and now we will not only have to move again, but the templars will be hunting us now. You have endangered our family!" he growled in a low voice, dragging her along._

_"Don't you want to know why I did it?" she hissed._

_"You did it because you hated him! For Makers sake Mari, you are thirteen! You should know better. And don't think I didn't realise you used blood magic. Have you any idea of how dangerous that is?" he sneered, only because he was afraid to roar in case they should be discovered._

_Mari looked at him, while Barren's words filled her head. He was right. The filthy bastard was right. The only way to survive was through power and in the end, no one really loved her. So why should she love them? Bethany and Carver had seen what had been done to her and had said nothing. Everything she had ever done to protect her family, her father disapproved of. And it was assumed that she had killed Barren only because she hated him. Mari gave a smirk and stepped closer to her father._

_"I killed him and I enjoyed it. His screams were like music and his blood held sweet, sweet power. You were never strong enough to protect our family and your attempts are pathetic. I would hate you, but you are not worthy of that either," she purred and walked away._

* * *

Justice had never seen anyone so broken as Mira was at this moment. He had never felt so helpless or so worthless as when he looked down at her, on her knees and sobbing. At Anders' instruction, Justice knelt beside her and began to heal her. If nothing else it would comfort her, but he discovered that she was indeed hurt - as if she had been the victim of the man's violations. As if she had been raped by him all over again. Justice roared his anger and stood up with lightning flaring from him.

"**Do not harm her!**" the spirit bellowed.

"I did no such thing. Besides, this is a lesson to her. She sacrificed her innocence to protect her family and you saw how she was rewarded. With disloyalty and mistrust. Do you wonder why her heart turned cold?" Hybris laughed.

"**I demand justice for these atrocities!**" Justice growled.

"Oh, but justice was provided, little spirit," Hybris cooed and the fade shifted once more.

* * *

_Mari and her family were running through the forest, breathing raggedly, and near the end of their endurance. Bethany fell, but Mari ignored her and ran right past her. Malcolm turned back to help his daughter to her feet._

_"We need to get going. If we stop, the templars will catch us," Malcolm urged._

_"We will never get away in time," Bethany whimpered._

_Mari stopped dead in her tracks and turned with a nasty glare in her eyes._

_"You are right, we won't. You three keep running. Father and I will make a diversion," she ordered._

_Leandra looked at them, horrified._

_"No, we have to stay together," Leandra pleaded._

_"No, Mari is right. Go, love. We will catch up soon enough," Malcolm replied._

_"Let me stay and protect you. You need me," Carver insisted._

_"I need you to stay with your mother and sister. Be a good lad and do as I ask," Malcolm instructed._

_Reluctantly Leandra, Bethany and Carver ran off, further into the forest. Mari had a grin on her face as she looked at her father. The man's eyes held tears back, and his pain was evident._

_"You are going to sacrifice me, aren't you?" he said calmly._

_With that, Mari slit her wrist and with her blood's power, she bound him to a tree. She walked over to him with confident and triumphant steps._

_"Don't worry sweet father, the spell will wear off soon enough. Just about the same time as the templars catch up. Now, be a good 'protector' and put up a fight so they won't follow us as quickly," she purred before giving a fake pout._

_Malcolm lowered his head and his tears finally fell._

_"I'm so sorry, my beloved child. Forgive me," he whispered._

_"Your meaningless guilt is nothing to me. May you enjoy the void," she growled, before running into the woods laughing manically._

* * *

At this, Mira got up and looked at Hybris, fire burning in her palms and magical energy pulsating around her. Justice saw that Hybris had stepped back, betraying his own fear. Justice walked over next to Mira, his own energy glowing, lightning running up and down his arms.

"What I once was, is not what I am now. I have a choice and I choose not to become her. But make no mistake that those who cross me will regret it, and you more than the rest," Mira growled, and she released the fire within her, igniting Hybris.

The demon howled in its torture of flames, and when Justice' electricity struck, it began to spasm. When Hybris fell, the nightmare faded.


	14. Chapter 14 Upheaval

**Upheaval**

As soon as Anders awoke from the fade, he could hear Mira's cries of pain and fury. When he turned, she was bent over on her knees with her face buried in her arms. Varric went forward to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch her!" Anders objected.

Varric looked taken aback by this, and Fenris scowled. Even now, Fenris did seem more concerned that she had become an abomination than with her actual welfare as his hand kept closing and opening around his sword. The elf did however, seem to understand from Anders' expression that this was not the case, and Fenris' tension lessened. Varric, on the other hand, looked confused and worried.

"Don't touch her," Anders then repeated more softly as he stood up.

"What happened?" Aveline asked.

"The demon showed her something from her past and it's not what you think. Varric, Fenris I know you want an explanation, but the fewer men that are around her at present the better," Anders explained carefully.

Seeing his seriousness, Varric and Fenris nodded, before heading to the door.

"Let us know how she does, Blondie," Varric requested before they left, and Anders gave them a slight nod.

Mira remained lying on the floor, trembling and crying. Merrill approached her slowly and looked to Anders to see if it was all right. When Anders nodded, Merrill instantly knelt down next to Mira and wrapped her arms around her. Aveline gave Anders a questioning look, and he gestured for her to follow him a little distance away. Aveline turned to him.

"What is going on?"

"When Mari was a girl, she was raped repeatedly by the same man. He forced her to do it in return for her family's safety. The demon Mira encountered in the fade showed her the vision and made her feel that it was happening all over again," Anders explained in a low voice, so Mira wouldn't hear.

Aveline looked shocked as she raised a hand to her mouth and looked back at Mira.

"That's horrible... and the demon?" she then asked.

"Mira defeated it, though how she managed it is beyond me. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have let her do it," he sighed with regret.

"No Anders, you are not to blame. She wanted to do this, and if you had not helped her she would have found another way. Just be grateful you did and she wasn't in there alone," she replied, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I suppose you are right. We should get her home...if you and Merrill could support her while we walk through the cellars. I think it's best if I keep my distance from her, and someone will need to watch her tonight," he sighed mournfully.

"I have a night patrol, but I'm sure Merrill will do it, and yourself," Aveline replied.

"She just experienced rape. The last thing she would want around her is someone who reminds her even in the slightest of what happened," he stated with a deep sigh.

"What she wants is to have someone around her whom she knows she can trust. But let us discuss it later. Let's get her home," Aveline replied.

Mira had finally stopped crying, but seemed disoriented and trembled greatly. Anders quickly packed a satchel with different items he might need, before they headed to Mira's estate. Aveline and Merrill supported her, while Anders led the way through the cellars up to the estate. None of them said a word and Mira barely looked at any of them. Anders was deeply concerned for her, as he struggled with the images he had seen. Seeing her being raped, tortured and pushed away by those she loved, had been more brutal than any of his own nightmares. Nothing he had done to her in those dreams even came close to the reality that had been submerged beneath Mari's malice for years. Seeing Mira going through the same and not being able to stop it, was worse than anything he could ever have imagined. He didn't remember his own harrowing with fondness, but it hadn't even remotely compared to the agony of Mira's.

_"And yet she resisted the demon... the little girl is strong,"_ Justice concluded with admiration.

And though Anders agreed with the spirit's assessment, he would rather have never found out. Entering the estate, Mira was still trembling and Anders could see her feeling cold. He could see silent tears stream down her face even as she tried to hide beneath her mask of hair. He looked to Aveline and Merrill.

"I will go make some tea, that should have a calming effect," Anders told them.

"We will make sure she gets a long, hot bath," Aveline replied, and understanding passed between warrior and healer.

"Yes, here are some scented herbs. They should give a calming effect as well," Anders replied, handing Merrill the herbs.

Merrill looked at the two with wonderment, but did as they instructed. Aveline and Merrill helped Mira upstairs while Anders went into the kitchen to prepare the tea.

As he was about to crush the herbs for the tea, he could see himself trembling as well, and had to hold onto the table to steady himself. Flashes of young Mari in pain and the sound of Mira's whimpering went through his mind, and he felt utterly sick and disgusted. At the same time, so many things had begun to make sense. The abuses had made Mari go from being a sick girl with a poor grasp of emotion, into the terror he had known her to be. It didn't excuse her from all the injustices and horrors she had committed, but for the first time since Anders had known Mari, he finally understood why she had lost her mind. He felt the anger, hate and desire for her submission lessen, and pity and sympathy take their place. She was no longer the insane woman of horrors, but a little sick girl who had been abused and ignored. He felt himself shudder. If these were the incidents that had caused Mari to change, how would they affect Mira? Was it possible that this trip into the fade had brought back Mari, and his beloved Mira was now no more than a dream that ended far too quickly? He felt anger and vengeance tighten its grip on his soul. But those he wished vengeance upon had long since passed away. Bethany and Carver had been very young when they had seen their sister being abused, and it was possible that they simply didn't know what was happening. Still, the betrayal Mari must have felt, left him with such a bitter taste in his mouth that even the mint leaves he reached for, didn't remove it. It now made sense why Mari had been able to kill Carver in cold blood in the Deep Roads, and to sacrifice Bethany to the ogre that attacked them as they fled Lothering. It didn't make the crime Mari committed less heinous, but it did supply the explanation that Anders had been lacking for a long time. How could Malcolm not have known? Worse, why wouldn't he listen to his daughter? Had he been so blinded by fear of what she could do, that it blinded him also from being able to see the truth?

_"Just as __**you**__ are, whenever Mira is around,"_ Justice remarked.

_"If I'm blinded by anything, it's love, not fear,"_ Anders replied.

_"And you think this makes a difference?" _

_"I hope it does."_

Anders tried to take hold of his emotions and concentrate on his task. Mira needed him to be strong for her, even if he couldn't be in the same room. More than anything he wanted to go to her and hold her, but he didn't dare. A man had abused her in the most unforgivable way imaginable, and being in the presence of another might make her feel threatened. Perhaps that was why Mari had seemed more hostile towards men than women. Suddenly it made sense why Mari would act with such violence at his slightest affectionate gesture. Mari had been so consumed with her hate that she had never given herself the opportunity to heal, and each time Anders touched her kindly, it would feel like another assault. Maybe that was her reason to be comfortable with only female lovers? Not that it was strange that woman should prefer other women, but Anders had wondered why Mari reserved her attentions to women, while Mira seemed interested in men. No matter how much the ritual might have changed her, her sexuality should not have been affected. Anders felt his heart stop. What if this incident had done the same to Mira? He had just began to hope for the chance that she might return his deep feelings for her, but maybe that wouldn't be possible now? He suddenly felt jealous of Merrill, who was upstairs with Mira... helping her bathe. The words of the demon sneered in his mind.

_"Give you the power to bestow upon your love what he desires most."_

The demon had referred to the person she loved as 'he' and Anders knew that despite what had happened, Mira was not changeable. The only question was, which 'he', was it to be? Anders felt a chill in his heart as he recalled the demon had mentioned Fenris not long after. Had she given her heart to the beast, who now completely ignored her while treating her with malice and resentment for a crime she couldn't remember committing? Anders felt his grip tighten, but was not left with his anguish for long, as Aveline and Merrill were coming through the door. His own distress seemed to fade, as his concern for Mira replaced it.

"How is she?" he asked, very worried.

"Better. A bath and some clean clothes did wonders and she is in bed now, but still awake. I doubt she will sleep much tonight," Aveline replied.

"This tea should help," Anders offered, and walked over to get the boiling water.

"How you two always know what to do in such situations, amazes me. How do you know?" Merrill asked with innocence and admiration.

"In the tower, the templars had many ways of making mages submit. This is not the first time I have seen women suffer because of something like this," Anders explained, barely keeping his voice steady.

"In the army, there are soldiers who are scum. After awhile, they become more beast than human and on occasion, they take whatever they want," Aveline said with anger and venom penetrating her voice.

Aveline had clearly seen her fair share of rape victims as well, but Anders didn't believe her to have ever been one of them. More likely, the targets had been the female elves serving the military elite. Justice twisted inside Anders. It was the spirit's first confrontation with this sort of injustice. He had known of it of course, but had related it only to mage freedom.

Anders handed the tea to Aveline.

"Oh..." Merrill replied with sadness.

"She asked for you, Anders. You should take it to her," Aveline smiled softly, and handed back the cup.

Anders needed no more encouragement, and left the kitchen with more haste and eagerness than he would like to have shown. He hurried up the stairs, but forced himself to walk slowly as he reached the second floor. Mira was fragile at the moment, and he needed to take care with her. He knocked softly on the door and waited for her to ask him to enter. When he opened the door, Mira was sitting in bed and looking directly at him. Her trembling had stopped and though her eyes were red, her tears had dried. His heart's ache was dulled when she gave him a small smile as sign that it was all right for him to approach her. He walked over next to the bed and sat down on it.

"You should drink this. It will help you relax," he said soothingly, and with both hands held the cup forward.

To his surprise, Mira took his right hand between hers and brought it to her lips. His heart skipped a beat and he breathed more unevenly as she kissed his hand over and over again. The soft moist lips caressed the back of his hand, and he felt relief that Mira did not fear his touch, was not repulsed by him, as Mari had been. A part of him wanted to react and pull her close, but another part was terrified of letting the moment end. The feel of her lips brushing over him made his desire to kiss her in return, transform into an almost irrepressible urge that he must not give in to. After what had happened in the fade, he knew that every next step to be taken would have to be initiated by her. He could not force himself upon her, even if his motivations and method would be far different than the crimes that had befallen her in her youth. To his regret, the kisses stopped and instead, she brought his hand to her cheek and pressed it against the softness of her skin. She closed her eyes and gave an almost blissful sigh as she pressed herself to his touch. The palm of his hand on her cheek, he let his thumb softly caress her.

"Thank you for being there with me," she uttered softly, with relief.

"Always," he breathed, his heart thundering in his chest.

"Had you not been there, I don't know that I would have been able to resist. All the pain... I just wanted it to go away. The memory of what I did to my family will always haunt me... No matter what happened, they didn't deserve it," she hissed, turning all her anger towards herself.

Anders was at a loss for words. What could he possibly say that would comfort her? He knew that any of his words would be uselessly inadequate.

"We have all done things in anger that we later regret. Had you not been sick, it might never have gone that far. Had they known what you sacrificed for them, this might all have been different," he tried to comfort.

She opened her eyes and gave him a weary smile, still holding his hand against her cheek.

"Only you would try to let me off that easy..."

"You are not the same person who did those things," he argued, and realised that he was holding his hand to her face on his own.

"Maybe not... but had you not been in there with me today, I don't know if I would have been able to resist. This might be horrible, but all that kept me from giving in to that demon, was knowing you would never forgive me if I did."

Her confession felt like a blow to his heart. He had been the reason she had not given in. While she was suffering the most and been at the depths of her despair, he had been a source of strength for her.

_"She loves me..."_ Anders realised.

_"It would seem that her affection for you serves to give her focus, rather than offering distraction,"_ Justice noted, as if it were an epiphany.

His hand slipped down her neck, preparing to carefully pull her to him, but he was uncertain if he could be gentle. He would need to be gentle, but with his heart drumming as if going to war, his blood pumping through him making his every inch of skin quiver, he knew it would be impossible. When his fingers caressed her collarbone, she made a small twitch and Anders remembered himself. This was too soon for her. She would need time. So while his heart was screaming, his lips begging for hers and his limbs pleading to pull her close, he drew his hand away from her. Mira gave him an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, it's just..." she began.

"No, don't apologize. I understand. Drink this before it gets cold," he replied, and handed her the cup.

She smiled in thanks and began drinking the tea, while he just sat by her side in silence. He marvelled at her strength. She had experienced one of the most horrible things that could happen to a woman, but after the initial shock had passed, she was able to see reason and act more calmly than he knew he could ever have done. Not trusting himself so close to her, he stood up and pulled an armchair next to the fire, where he sat down. When done, she placed the cup on her night table and lay down on the bed.

"Anders, would you mind staying with me tonight?" she asked in a low voice.

"If course not," he replied.

"Thank you... I don't regret doing it you know... indulging that horrible man..." she said barely over a whisper.

Anders looked at her, unable to hide his surprise, even more so when he discovered how earnest she was. She was so forgiving, and the self-sacrifice had been absolute. For a fraction of a moment, Anders was glad that Hawke had been as she was, when it happened, that she had been Mari and not Mira then. If Mira was willing to do something like that, what else would she have done that could damage her?

"I would do it again if need be," she muttered, before sleep finally claimed her.

Anders felt paralyzed.

_"She would do it for you,"_ Justice said with surprise.

_"She will never have to. I will never let it come to that," _Anders vowed.

_"Then neither will I."_

Feeling his world spiralling around him, Anders reached for the satchel. He took out Malcolm's journal. He needed to know if her father had been oblivious to what had happened. He needed to find proof that Malcolm hadn't knowingly sacrificed his own daughter's virtue to such a monster. If there was anything in that journal that could lessen his love's pain even a little, he would find it. For more than an hour he read through it, until he finally came to a page which offered somewhat of an explanation.

_Malcolm's diary, year 927 of the Dragon Age_

_Bethany confessed something horrible to me today and I can hardly breathe. I finally know why Mari killed her teacher five years ago. He was sexually abusing my little girl, and I had no idea. I feel hatred burning inside me and I only wish I had killed the bastard myself. To think of all the times I scolded her for coming home late, assuming she had done something wrong. Because of her violent behaviour in the past, I doomed her future by not paying attention. I tried to talk to Mari, but she just laughed at me, that cold hollow laugh that tells me that Barren wasn't the only one who died that day. She told me she gave him what he wanted in return for our safety. Now she claims it was a wasted effort. Mari claimed that I was never strong enough to protect my family and now I know that she is right. Bethany and Carver suffered cruelly after I asked them about it. They blame themselves for not telling, but they were only seven years old. They had no idea what was going on or that it was wrong. No, if anyone is to blame it is me. I look at my little girl and I fear for her. She has become even more difficult to control. She is sometimes gone for days, and when she returns she is covered in blood that is not her own. Leandra and I have talked about sending her to the circle, because she can no longer be controlled and no longer wants to hold back. I left the circle because they took away our rights for a family and freedom, but now I regret it. Not because I left or that I have a family, but I wish that I had stayed and fought. Had I fought, we and future generations would not have to run like we do. Then Mari would not have been blackmailed into doing that monster's bidding. But Mari is out of control and I don't know what to do. Still, I cannot bear to send her to the circle. She is a maleficar and they will make her tranquil without hesitation. I have failed my little girl in so many ways, how can I do this to her as well? I have turned my little girl into something no better than a demon. A terrifying, beautiful, powerful demon and I love her more than life itself. Forgive me..."_

Anders looked up from the book and then at Mira's sleeping form, for a moment feeling relief that the herbs he had given her had made her sleep peacefully. He then thought of Malcolm. The poor man hadn't known what had happened to his daughter, and had only realised the truth when action, apology and remorse had been far too late. That was why Malcolm had given up his life in the forest and not struggled against Mari. He was feeling the guilt heavily and it had been a burden and a curse far greater than any torture Anders could think of. The man had sacrificed himself willingly, so for this death at least, Hawke was not solely responsible. Malcolm Hawke had not begged for his life in the final moments, but begged for forgiveness that was never granted.

* * *

Weeks passed and Mira did seem to be getting better each day. She had coped remarkably well, but Anders didn't doubt that the experience in the fade had affected her. Mira had always been affectionate in giving gentle touches, but for awhile she had avoided that and seemed uneasy when others touched her. It was slowly subsiding however, and she herself had suggested that she help out in the clinic, where she was forced to come in contact with other people. Obligated to touch, and realise that it could also bring relief and mend pain. Justice had begun to admire her strength greatly and appreciate that she looked out for Anders and the other mages. Anders' initial fears that the spirit could not tell the difference between Mari and Mira seemed to ease.

The clinic was quiet and Mira was sorting out the cabinet of potions and salves, when one of the refugee boys came with a missive for Anders. Giving the boy a few silvers, Anders quickly opened the letter. It was an encoded message from the underground, and he went to his desk to decipher it. His blood ran cold as he began the process. A templar named ser Alrik, who had long been on the underground list of most notorious templars, had made another two harrowed mages tranquil against their will. Anders let out a growl of frustration and incinerated the note in his anger. Mira gave a yelp of surprise before looking at him with great concern.

"Anders, what is it?"

"Have you noticed how many tranquil are in the Gallows lately? And don't tell me I'm just sensitive to it. I have been watching and everyday there are new tranquil – selling their bloody wares. Mages I **know** have passed their harrowing," he hissed, turning on his stool.

Mira's eyes widened.

"But the law clearly states that harrowed mages can't be made tranquil. Who is behind it?" Mira asked, taking his every word seriously.

Anders nearly smiled. It seemed that so few took his word seriously, but there she was, listening to his every word, not for a moment doubting that they were true.

"Exactly! They are using the Rite of Tranquillity to silence those who speak against them. The plan is the work of a man named Ser Alrik. I have had a run in with him myself. Nasty piece of work. Likes to make mages beg," Anders sneered with both anger and hurt, as he felt his eyes tearing.

"Then we must stop him... Wait... Alrik... Maker, he was the one..." Mira gasped, with brimming eyes.

"Who performed the ritual on Karl," he finished sadly, as he closed his eyes.

Instantly he felt both Mira's hands taking his, and when he opened his eyes, she looked up at him.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Come with me to the Gallows tonight, please. Help me find evidence of Ser Alrik's tranquil solution. If we bring evidence of his plan to light there must be men who will stand against it. Perhaps even the Grand Cleric will be forced to act," he breathed, barely keeping everything he felt under control.

"I wouldn't let you face this alone," she replied without hesitation, and Anders smiled.

"You are the one bright light in Kirkwall. I have always feared being made tranquil – now more than ever," he said sadly, stroking her face with a single finger.

"I'll get Isabella and Varric immediately. I'll be back as soon as possible." She kissed his cheek and grabbed her cloak before running out the door.

_"I shouldn't have asked her. She is still recovering. It's not fair to burden her like this,"_ Anders thought regretfully.

_"Helping you gives her strength, and in the face of what the mages in the Gallows suffer, hers is minimal,"_ Justice replied.

_"Not to me."_

_"I know, which is why she is a distraction from our path."_

* * *

Anders ran through the tunnels with all the haste his warden stamina would allow, and was amazed that Mira kept up. She seemed as eager as he did to stop Ser Alrik and both Varric and Isabella were vexed by what they had heard. Running through a passage, they entered a room where a young mage was down on her knees before Ser Alrik, begging him not to make her tranquil.

"**Don't you dare touch her!**" Mira growled as they entered, her hands set afire, with blue and red flames licking her arms.

"What have we here?" Ser Alrik said coldly, as he turned.

"It's the Divine, come all the way from Orlais to tell you personally what a jackass you are," Varric said with sarcastic resentment.

"Release her now, or answer for the consequences!" Mira demanded with a snarl worthy of Mari.

Anders suddenly felt Justice stir. The spirit's rage engulfed him, breaking through his defences, demanding control so he could take vengeance on the man before him.

"No, this is their place. We cannot..." Anders pleaded with the spirit, but the battle was already lost.

All that Anders was, became dimmed by the fury consuming him like an explosive flame. Mercy, compassion and reason were sacrificed for a raw power and strength that charged every ounce of force within Anders' body. Justice' rage filled the room like a hurricane, as templar after templar was annihilated by his vengeance. Limbs were torn from bodies, and Anders faintly felt the blood splashing his face, as he begged for the spirit to recede. His pleas were overpowered by the roars of the spirit's ferocious haze, giving way to a frenzy that left behind a carnage not unlike Mari's. Anders had only just become aware that all of the templars had died, when Justice turned his gaze towards the young mage lying on the floor, in terror of him. As wrath still overwhelmed the spirit, Anders could not control him.

"**I will have every last templar for these atrocities!**" Justice roared.

"They will pay, but those here are already dead, my friend," Mira's voice sounded vaguely from behind him.

"Get away from me, demon!" the mage girl cried in fear.

Justice' wrath boiled anew, as the accusation ran through him like a burning poison.

"I am no demon! Are you one of them that you would call me such?" Justice hissed.

"Anders... Justice, that girl is a mage. We saved her so she wouldn't be made tranquil, remember?" Mira said softly, walking closer to him.

But Justice felt nothing beyond his rage, his anguish, and images of tortured mages flashing before his eyes.

"She is theirs! I can feel their hold on her!" The spirit cried a little desperately.

Mira stepped between him and the girl and placed a hand on his cheek. Justice looked at her and vaguely saw that unlike the girl on the floor, Mira showed no fear.

"Justice, we are fighting to protect her. Please, my love, remember. If you do not trust her, then at least have faith in me," Mira said ever so softly.

Justice' confusion gave Anders the opportunity to break the spirit's hold on him. Anders looked at Mira, who smiled very fondly at him. How could she? Did she not realise how close he had come to killing that girl?

"Maker, no! I almost... If you haven't been here... I-I need to get out of here!" Anders exclaimed, terrified.

Not daring to look at Mira or the girl, he ran. He heard Mira calling him in the distance, but he could not make himself stop. He needed to get away from her. He did not trust himself around her. He was a monster and an abomination. He was no different than the Queen of Horrors he had once served. In her absence, it had been made clear that he was now the most horrific creature in Kirkwall, a mage who gave into his anger and turned on his own kind, not unlike she had done. Running through Darktown, he scarcely noticed the refugees he knocked over as he passed. At his clinic, he stormed through the door and locked it. He should be locked up. Maybe the templars were right all along. He needed to get out of Kirkwall and away from everyone he might hurt. He walked to a bowl of water to wash his face and saw the water turning blood red before his eyes. His heart wrenched with an emotional pain that made him cry out loud. He walked to his chest and began sorting out his things. After a few minutes he heard the sound of his door being opened with lock picks, but he could not be bothered to care. He heard footsteps from behind him and realised that he could recognize Mira from the shadow she cast on the floor. Justice was right; he was obsessed with her if he could identify her by a mere shadow. He felt her hands on his shoulders.

"You're upset. Come, we need to talk," she said softly.

He stood up and turned to face her.

"**Upset does not begin to cover it!** You were the only thing keeping me from murdering an innocent girl!" he hissed in his anguish.

Mira stepped forward and placed both her hands on his cheeks.

"And you were the only one who stopped me from giving into a demon," she comforted ever so softly.

"It's not the same... It's all gone wrong, Justice and I – we're just a monster! The same as any abomination," he replied, closing his eyes with shame, unable to look at her.

"A monster is someone who does terrible things, knowing they are wrong and does them anyway. You were out of control and fear made you desperate, but you are not a monster," she said seriously, caressing his face.

He looked at her as a single tear fell.

"Only you would try to let me off that easy..." he chuckled sadly, as spoke the same words she had said to him only weeks before.

"Here, read this." Mira reached for a piece of paper.

Anders felt overjoyed as his eyes travelled through the letters at unbelievable speed.

"The Divine rejected the idea. Meredith rejected the idea. This is... not what I expected. Perhaps I should try talking to the Grand Cleric. Maybe she is more reasonable than I thought... Thank you," he breathed with relief.

"You never need to thank me for standing by you. I will do anything to keep you free," she smiled kindly and her hands adjusted his coat, as she looked down shyly.

Anders felt his heart pounding. His mouth went dry and his entire being tingled. He felt like he was being pulled towards her and that he would perish, could he not hold her. But he could not force this. She had been tormented, and he could transform into a mad beast at any moment.

"I have tried to hold back. You saw what I almost did to that girl – you've seen what I am, but I'm still a man. You can't tease me like this and expect me to resist forever," he pleaded, his voice filled with emotion.

She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted, breathing heavily. The black veil fell away as she leaned her head back and inclined her body slightly towards him, her chest rising and falling at a fast pace.

"Kiss me..." she whispered.

One slip is all it takes for a mage to fall, and so his lips crushed against hers, with all the passion, fear and hope that he had suppressed for years.

* * *

_Author's note: Thanks to Flint and Feather for making me look far more skilled than I am. And again thanks for all the wonderful reviews._


	15. Chapter 15 Disunity

**Disunity**

His lips melted against hers, as his heart erupted with years of suppressed longing for a reality he had scarcely dared dream of, now unfolding before him. The palms of his hands embraced her cheeks, while his fingers entangled in her soft smooth hair, felt as if they had been held frozen, and now finally were freed in warmth to caress her. When she responded eagerly and leaned into him, her arms around his waist pulled him closer. She stretched up to reach to his height with her chest pressing against him, half convincing him that he was trapped in another of his dreams, though none of his dreams had equalled this moment. Her lips searing him while she breathed low sounds of passion, held both a tenderness and fervour he had never thought to receive. He moaned as he drank from her, finding that she returned just as much affection as he gave. Ecstatically lost in a whirlpool that could have gone on forever had his lungs not burned for air, with his head spinning, and will ever so reluctant, he pulled away. A smile formed on his lips as he felt her fingers digging into his robes to keep him close. Her reddened lips smiled radiantly as her face flushed, and her deep green-blue eyes glowed with joy. Her hair spilled back fluidly over her shoulders, and he reached to run his fingers through the black veil that was as smooth and tantalizing to the touch as silk.

"This will be a disaster, but I can't live without it," he breathed happily, but the seriousness of what this meant grabbed his heart. "We could die tomorrow. I don't want it to be before I tell you how I feel."

"I care for you more than anything," she confessed, her eyes so full of devotion it nearly broke everything within him.

"I thought that with Justice, this part of me was over. I can't give you a normal life. If you're with me, we'll be hunted, hated – the whole world will be against us." He realised how desperate his words sounded only after they had passed his lips.

"I know. And speaking of being hunted, I want you to gather the things you need and come back to the estate. Since what happened in the Gallows, I will not risk you being here alone," she replied seriously.

"Very well. If your door is open tonight, I will come to you..."

"No, not tonight. Now, I would be here and help you, but I promised Ella I would help her leave Kirkwall," Mira explained, and finally pulled from his embrace.

"Ella?" he asked, confused.

"The mage you saved from being made tranquil." She smiled almost as if she were proud of him.

"The mage you saved from being murdered by a monster," he sighed and looked downward.

Her hand found his chin and she made him look at her. Upon seeing her smile softly at him, he could do nothing to maintain his despair and returned the smile.

"And I am the woman who will always be there to make sure you will never have to bear your burdens alone. Pack your things and I'll see you at the estate as soon as possible." And with that, she kissed him deeply before leaving the clinic.

As she left, Anders let out a breathless chuckle of both disbelief and happiness. The incident that occurred only an hour earlier had still not left his mind however, and Mira was right. It was too dangerous in Darktown should the templars come searching for apostates. They would probably be more eager now than ever. He wouldn't need much, only some clean clothes and his latest research, but still it took him longer than he had expected. He didn't intentionally delay, but he was feeling excited and terrified at the same time. The ramifications of what he was entering into were not fully known to him, but he was aware of how dangerous they could be. When he was nearly done, his door was forcibly opened and slammed shut behind a livid Fenris.

"Well, come in Fenris. How delightful to see you," Anders greeted sarcastically.

"You just **had** to drag her into your doomed endeavour!" Fenris sneered.

For a moment, Anders paused. Was Fenris referring to what happened in the Gallows or what had happened between Anders and Mira? Fenris was the one of Hawke's companions who was the most difficult to deal with, but in the past they had always managed to work together regardless, in order to achieve a common goal.

"What she does is no concern of yours," Anders retorted.

"Your excessive whining and that demon of yours almost got her killed! So I would say it is a concern of mine," Fenris hissed.

"And this from the man who nearly killed her in blind rage. Unlike you, I've never even touched her and despite that fact, I am the one you accuse of being an uncontrollable abomination," Anders scoffed.

Fenris growled as his eyes pierced Anders. The elf clearly wanted to challenge, but had nothing to say in his defence. Anders knew that Fenris regretted what he had done to Mira, but the elf was far too proud to acknowledge it to others. The fact that Fenris felt any remorse at all, was astounding. Anders had seen Fenris kill many, but not once had he shown any sign of guilt... until now.

"What business did you have bringing her down there in the first place? Don't you think she has enough trouble as it is?"

"Thanks to your beloved Knight-commander, all my other associates have been forced into hiding and can't even act in the shadows anymore. There was no one else I could turn to, and Mira had told me that she wanted to help. I would not have involved her needlessly, but I hoped with Ser Alrik gone, the underground might be able to work freely again. Besides, she was here when I received the letter informing me that Ser Alrik was patrolling the Gallows tonight," Anders defended, his sarcastic anger retreating as he explained.

"And you thought taking a fellow apostate into the Gallows to kill a group of templars was safe? One would think that you would want to protect her as much as the rest of your people," Fenris spat.

"I didn't go in there to kill him, merely to find proof of his plans. But when I saw... I couldn't contain my anger," Anders admitted shamefully, and turned to rest his hands on the table.

"Perhaps it is time that you realise your limitations," Fenris offered calmly.

"Yes, because clearly you are right about everything," Anders hissed with sarcastic anger.

"It was a suggestion, not a condemnation," Fenris sighed.

"How did you find out anyway?" Anders groused.

"Isabella."

Of course, he should have figured that Isabella wouldn't be able to keep her mouth shut. Thankfully, she did have the tact not to mention it beyond their little group, but all this had probably been too exciting not to reveal to Fenris. 'Blasted pirate' his mind hissed, as Fenris continued.

"But my argument remains the same. Given her situation and her recent reluctance to aid the templars as she used to, keeping out of their notice would be wise. Surely, she is more important to you than her use to indulge your vengeance," Fenris replied, now as calm as usual.

"I **am** protecting her," Anders corrected in annoyance.

"All evidence to the contrary," Fenris scoffed.

Anders felt his blood boiling, between Isabella's lack of secrecy and Fenris' prodding. How dare he accuse him of not wanting to protect Mira? Didn't the elf realise that part of the reason he fought was for her to have a future and a real life, not dependant on her fortune and ability to hide, but as a basic human right?

"I love her. You can't even imagine what that is," Anders answered in a low growl.

Fenris scowled at him, and Anders felt he didn't have that right. For over a month Fenris had completely ignored Mira, even after he had almost killed her. He had not tried to apologize, despite clearly knowing it was not completely justified for him to have acted in such a way. And still, here he was, trying to protect her from someone else who had never laid a hand on her. Condemning Anders with a look alone, for having fallen in love with her. Informing him of a truth Anders already knew; that he didn't deserve her. Fenris couldn't even know that Mira had returned Anders' affection not an hour earlier.

"Don't bare your heart to me mage, unless you want to see me rip it out!" Fenris growled.

"Why? Because you have decided to hate her, you would kill all others who dare to love her? Why are we even discussing this? When she was Mari, we could work together, and despite that we didn't agree, we did tolerate each other. How we even managed to work together in the first place, marvels me," Anders sighed.

"The enemy of my enemy, is my ally," Fenris stated, his anger slowly retreating.

"So now that she has changed, are we to become deadly enemies?" Anders asked, crossing his arms.

Fenris sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"My only enemy is Danarius... I don't know why I even bothered coming here..." Fenris grunted and walked towards the door.

"Neither do I," Anders replied, and turned away.

* * *

As Anders walked through the cellars of the Amell Estate, he found himself constantly changing pace. One minute, he walked slowly, as Justice' warnings coursed through him and his own fear of hurting her seemed overwhelming. Then the next moment, the unbearable excitement and anticipation, the memory of her lips pressed against his own and the aroma of her perfume still tantalizing his senses, caused him to almost run. He walked up the final flight of stairs and as he opened the door, he was greeted by Mongrel. Mira had considered renaming him, but Anders didn't think it appropriate. Mira's way alone, of speaking the dog's name, made it an endearment rather than the insult it had once been. It was strange how much weight was carried in the tone of one's voice. How it could betray innermost feelings, which words try so carefully to conceal.

Anders entered the living room and was surprised to see Mira standing by the fire. He had expected her to be waiting for him in her bedroom. He put down his satchel and approached her carefully. She turned and gave a sigh of relief.

"What took you so long?" she scolded, but Anders merely chuckled and she seemed to remember herself. "I'm sorry, I was worried you might have changed your mind or that something had happened to you," she explained with an apologetic look.

Anders smiled sweetly and walked up to her.

"It's all right... Justice doesn't approve of my obsession with you. He believes you are a distraction. It is one of the few things on which he and I disagree," he smiled, placed his hands on her hips and gave her a soft kiss.

Her gaze wavered from his and she looked down, hiding behind her veil of hair.

"I don't know if I can do this," she uttered with sadness, and turned from him.

His heart stopped as she pulled away.

"I understand. You deserve someone who can give you his entire soul... I will never stop thinking about you," he said with bitter grief, and began to walk away, his heart crying out in agony.

"Wait! I **do **care for you, Anders - so much and so dearly," she breathed, and he could see her trembling.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he returned to her again and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Then what is the matter?" he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm not who I used to be... I'm not the woman you fell for," she shuddered, trying not to cry.

Anders closed his eyes and bent his head back with sudden understanding before quickly turning her to face him. He cradled her face in his hands and made her look at him, as he declared; "Oh, love!" As she looked at him with glistening eyes, he could feel her trembling like a leaf, despite her standing by the fire. He smiled softly at her and took in every detail of her face, as he noticed each difference between the woman she had been and the woman she was now...her formerly icy eyes, now deep and tender, her cheeks once hollow, now full and soft, her complexion now healthy and rosy, while the tattoo of blood was gone.

"Sweetheart, for years I have lain awake, aching for you...every night prayed that you would change and become someone better, and then by some miracle, you did. I wasn't in love with who you were, but with an image I created of who you could become," he soothed.

She pulled away from him and looked at him with eyes that watched and assessed him.

"I am not that woman, either. Since all this happened, there has only been one thing I knew for certain, and that was all of you. I have always known how I felt about you, Anders, but there is nothing more frustrating than knowing I am competing with the woman I once was, but don't remember. Now you are telling me that the person I'm actually competing with, doesn't even exist. If I am with you now, what will happen when you find out that I am not the person you imagined?" she asked in a pleading way.

Anders stayed quiet for a moment. Everything she said had merit, and he would have to give her a good, right and true answer. Saying 'because I know what I feel' was not a good enough argument, and he was as frightened as she, that he did not have the answer she was seeking. He took a deep breath as he carefully chose his words.

"Because the person I imagined doesn't compare to you. My foolish passion, my loneliness and desperate need for support, drove me to insanity and twisted my hatred into an obsessive one-sided love affair. So each night, I found myself wishing that Mari would support my cause, that I could save her, not realising that I was drowning myself. I convinced myself that I could accept all of her depravities as long as she loved me and believed in my cause. But then all this happened and as time passed, I saw a person far beyond what I had imagined. I didn't have to convince you that my cause was right, and didn't have to prove anything to gain your support and loyalty. You gave both without reservation and to everyone around, you are kind, generous and act with wisdom," Anders explained.

He came closer and took her hand, stroking it lovingly.

_"Very eloquent,"_ Justice remarked.

_"You sound surprised," _Anders replied, offended.

_"If you were this level headed when writing manifestos, instead of using it on a woman who will leave you distracted, vulnerable and defenceless, perhaps they would have turned out better,"_ Justice noted with worry.

_"Need I remind you what would have happened if she had not 'distracted' us earlier?"_ Anders shot back.

_"Indeed you do not," _Justice admitted with deference.

Mira looked up at him, her amazement and adoration causing her to breathe heavily. Justice was apparently not the only one taken aback. Perhaps Anders should have been a little insulted, but seeing her look at him in such a way, he couldn't be bothered to care. He was surprised when suddenly her arms wrapped around his neck, and she kissed him forcefully. He moaned as she deepened her kiss, and he took her in close in his arms. It was an odd sensation to see the passion that fuelled the fury he had known so well, being applied to loving him with equal force. Even stranger, this passion that had kept him a prisoner and slave for years, now suddenly liberated him. When near her, his prison of solitude and hopelessness existed no more. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily and she looked adorably shy, all of a sudden.

"Sorry, I had no adequate response," she smiled sheepishly.

"I disagree," he smiled as charmingly as he could, and gave her a small kiss.

He looked into her eyes and stroked her cheek. Her eyes gazed into his, her face uncovered from her mask, as his celestial being of light dared show herself to him. Now, she exhibited no shame in herself and her soft features were undisturbed by worry. His heart was beating a symphony of old that made every emotion in him cascade.

"In the circle, love was just a game. It gave the templars too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose. It would kill me to lose you," he confessed with sadness.

"You won't," she said softly.

"No mage I know has ever dared to fall in love. This is the rule I will most cherish breaking," he whispered, before claiming her lips again.

The soft kiss deepened into something passionate and lustful as he pulled her flush against him. His desire for her grew as blood coursed through him. He moaned softly as his growing passion for her pressed against her, waiting eagerly to be released from its bondage. Caught up by his own emotions, he was more than surprised when she pushed herself away.

"No, I shouldn't do this. We can't... This is wrong..." she protested, retreating from him.

He felt a wrenching pain in his chest.

"What? You're breaking up with me? Everything you said... You used me!" he replied breathlessly, hearing the quiver in his own voice.

Feelings of hurt and betrayal overwhelmed him, as she had tempted him over and over, only playing with his heart, and leaving him wanting. She turned with an expression of affliction that mirrored his own.

"I would never use you. I love you," she confessed, as a silent tear fell from her eye.

"Then what is it? I can't figure you out. Do you want to be with me or not?" he asked bluntly, unable to conceal his annoyance and frustration.

"I'm sorry. I am broken and I can't offer you what you deserve." She desperately tried not to sob.

"What I deserve?" he asked, confused.

_"Anders, she is afraid. The injustices of her past haunt her still,"_ Justice reminded him softly.

And then Anders remembered. The fade, the memories and the pain, had only a happened a few weeks ago and this morning, he knew she was still fragile. But recent events had left him caught up in all of his own feelings, so that he completely forgot it. For weeks, the softest of touches had made her squirm involuntarily and within a few hours, she had been assaulted with passion. He had been so distracted by her, that what should have been obvious to him, had gone unnoticed. He stepped forward and embraced her.

"Shh, love... It's going to be all right. I won't have you do anything you aren't ready for, and I won't pressure you. Just don't turn away from me. Let me help you through this, and we can take it as slowly as you need," he soothed, and kissed her hair.

"I'm sorry. After we helped Ella, Isabella noticed how happy I was and made me confess to what had happened between us. Then she began talking about how you had been in love with me for years and you deserved to be happy. After that, she began saying how she wanted a full report on how our first night was... Suddenly it was all so overwhelming and I didn't know if I could ever be everything you expected me to be. And then all my memories assaulted me. I still have nightmares about what happened in the fade and what I – Mari - did to all those women. When I'm with you, I don't want any of that to be present, but I don't know if I can do that yet. I'm so sorry," she began to cry silently.

_"That pirate needs to face justice some day," _the spirit grumbled.

_"Agreed,"_ Anders consented.

Anders dried her tears and kept kissing her softly.

"Shh... you have nothing to be sorry for, my love. Don't cry, please, don't cry," he crooned against her lips as he kissed her.

"I should have known you would understand," she apologized, as she pulled back and let her fingers straighten out his ruffled feathers.

"I love you. I have been holding back from saying it. You should have a real life, not be tied down to a fugitive with no future, but I don't ever want to leave you," he said softly.

She smiled up at him.

"Don't leave. I love you too and I'm as damaged as you. Ironically, it is only when I am with you that I feel normal at all," she smiled sadly.

"Do you mean that? Would you have me here living with you? Would you tell the world – the knight-commander – that you love an apostate and will stand beside him?" he smiled at her with more hope than he had had in his lifetime.

"Of course I will. And if anyone comes for you, I will have Mongrel eat them. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" she cooed at the dog sitting at the other end of the room and it gave a happy bark.

"Thank you for giving your approval, messere," Anders chuckled and bowed to the dog, making Mira giggle.

"Come, help me clear a closet for you," she smiled and took his hand, leading him upstairs.

* * *

That night, Anders lay beside Mira and watched her sleep, finally at peace. The first hour, she had been haunted by nightmares, but he had calmed her by holding her close and kissing her brow. He had never imagined their first night to be like this...sleeping next to each other without expressing physically what had been contained for so long. Even despite her being right there next to him, he felt that ache more than ever. The evil creatures Barren and Mari had both destroyed something as beautiful as the act of making love. First Barren had destroyed Mari, and she had taken revenge upon her later lovers - never knowing the difference between lovemaking and mere sex. And now his beloved Mira could not perform love without the past tainting it. Anders had always thought of mages persecuted within the circle. He had never once believed that mages outside it were just as tormented. He felt disgusted with himself for all the times he had arrogantly claimed that Mari had an easy life, not knowing what had lain beneath her hatred. It was a wonder she hadn't destroyed him. The cause of mages was more important than ever, but after what had happened in the Gallows, he didn't dare to go there again. He needed to be free of vengeance, if he was ever to make up for the injustices both Mari and Mira had suffered.

Mira snuggled up against him and placed her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and felt the fabric of her white silk night gown, which did nothing to calm his desires. He took a deep breath, and the vanilla perfume enraptured his senses. He bit his lip to hold back the sigh of pleasure that even this small contact provided. Feeling his desire almost torturing him, he cast a frost spell beneath the sheets to dampen his passion for her. He did not for a second blame her for needing time, but the part of him that was still a man prayed that time would pass quickly. When she kissed his chest, he smiled. Despite everything, he was happier than he had been in years.

"It's so wonderful to have you here," she whispered.

"Not as much as being here with you... I thought you were asleep. Did you have a nightmare?" he asked carefully.

"Yes, but I can't remember the details now... I have wanted to lie like this for ages," she sighed happily.

"Me, too... I still can't believe this is real... How long have you loved me?" he asked with curiosity.

She moved to eye level with him, her head resting on her own pillow. He turned on his side and took her hand in his.

"Right from when I first... awoke, I suppose. Sometimes it feels like I have been asleep my entire life. I know that I have dreamt, but the memories are all dreams that I can only almost recall. Faint images and voices with no coherency or relation. But when I saw all of your faces – you and the others - I just knew all of you. I knew who you were, your opinions and even some of your experiences. That was why I didn't realise anything was wrong at first. When I awoke, I saw your face and it was so familiar to me. It was the face of someone I loved, but then you pulled away from me as if I were a disease. I was heartbroken. When I learned you were in love with who I once was, I was so afraid that you would not love me for the person I am now," she explained softly.

Anders leaned over and kissed her lips softly.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

* * *

_Author's note: I know this chapter wasn't very exciting, but I wanted to give you an inside into Mira's thoughts and feelings. I hope you enjoyed it. And once again thanks to Flint and Feather, who does such and amazing job correcting my writings:)_


	16. Chapter 16 Confounded

**Confounded**

_A/N: there was some trouble uploading this chapter apparently, so this is a second attempt. Please let me know if it worked and thank you for all the encouraging reviews._

* * *

When Anders awoke the next morning, he turned with his eyes still closed and reached for Mira. He didn't dare open them, terrified that the night before had been yet another dream taunting him with what he could never have. There were no words to express his feelings of heartbreaking disappointment, when he found no one beside him. Carefully he opened his eyes and gave a chuckling breath of relief, when he found that he was lying in her bed dressed only in his trousers.

"It wasn't a dream," he concluded, reassured.

_"No... I hope you know what ramifications this has... for her and for you," _Justice indicated with genuine concern.

"So do I," Anders replied wistfully.

As he sat up and reached for his shirt, he studied the room. When she was Mari, this room had been dark, with very few candles and black draping always covering the windows. The stone walls had been painted black and the floor made of granite. The floor was now polished and the granite tiles sparkled in the sunlight coming through the windows, since the heavy black curtains had been replaced with lighter red ones. The former black walls had been redone with sand coloured stucco, covering not only the black, but the various holes and burns that had marred the walls. Anders didn't even want to imagine where those might have come from. The canopy bed in dark wood had been restored, and the beautiful features were now easily seen. A pattern of roses covered the headboard and vines of roses were carved into the pillars. The former heavy draping burned by Mira that first day, had been replaced by a soft, light white fabric that even the smallest breeze would stir. The bed linen was red and the sheets white, while the many pillows were coloured sand, red, white and golden. The room was filled with candles and torches, but they were of course, not lit at this hour. Anders chuckled. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined living in such grand surroundings and it would take some time before he could think of this as his home. But the only thing that truly mattered to him was currently missing and he didn't have patience to get fully dressed before going to look for her.

When he walked out the bedroom door he heard her voice and instantly smiled. He walked towards the railing and looked down into the entry hall. Jealousy burned within him when he heard Fenris' voice. He had no need to be jealous, after she had opened her heart and home to him. Still, he listened instead of letting the private conversation remain so.

"...and I apologize. Whatever might have been my reasons, you might have deserved my anger, but not my actions," Fenris told Mira.

"There is no need for that. I understand, and in your shoes I might have done the same," Mira replied with kindness.

"You are generous. Varric tells me that Danarius has received no news of my whereabouts, from you at least, but I suspect he will soon enough," Fenris sighed.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you ever need any help from me I will gladly aid you. I can help you find your sister if you like?" Mira offered sweetly.

From upstairs and through the door, Anders saw her place her hand gently on Fenris' arm. Anders' grip tightened on the railing, as he reminded himself repeatedly that he was the one who was sleeping next to her at night.

"I didn't come here to burden you further," Fenris sighed and walked towards the door.

"You're my friend, Fenris. It's not a burden at all," Mira replied.

"I'm not sure what it means to have a friend," Fenris admitted, as he left the estate.

Anders could hear Mira give a discouraged sigh, and she walked back into the living room. She was thankfully dressed and had been up for hours it would seem, his jealousy noted with relief. She was wearing black trousers, a simple white shirt and a maroon coloured corset. Anders was surprised to see her hair up in a ponytail and not covering her face as usual. She then looked up at him and her entire being seemed brightened as a smile formed on her lips. She ran up the stairs with the excitement of a child and threw herself into his arms, kissing him with the eagerness of a lovesick teenager. Anders chuckled against her lips, while wrapping his arms around her. When she pulled away she was smiling sheepishly and radiating a happiness that made him melt.

"Good morning, love," he said fondly, and could feel her pleasant shiver upon hearing the endearment.

"Good morning. Forgive me my enthusiasm," she giggled shyly.

"I happen to like your enthusiasm," he purred with a smile, meeting her lips again.

She sighed blissfully in reply and pulled him even closer to her. Anders began to wonder if she had ever received any kind of affection in the past five months, since her accident. He then thought of Merrill and knew that from her, Mira had at least received a hug from time to time. She must have been feeling lonely and lost for so long, it was hardly a wonder that she was this happy to be loved. And he was eternally grateful that he was the one allowed to be happy with her. He drew away from the kiss and embraced her tightly. She was not the only one who had been feeling lost and alone.

"So what did the beast want?" Anders asked, not able to keep his voice completely free of resentment as he nearly growled the insult.

Mira moved back and looked at him with a half amused, half reprimanding gaze.

"He is not a beast. He is just tormented by his past. Something you should easily be able to relate to," she corrected, and Anders gave a groan, declaring his defeat.

"He came to apologize, not that he owes me one," she then continued.

"He nearly killed you. I'd say that warrants an apology," he replied sternly.

"Well, he did apologize and thankfully, he is speaking to me again. It might take some time, but I might eventually get my friend back," she said a little hopefully.

"Because he is such an invaluable asset," he remarked sarcastically, and pulled away from her embrace entirely.

Mira gave a little snort and tried desperately to suppress a giggle, only adding to Anders' annoyance.

"You're jealous! That's cute," she replied, unable to contain her giggle any longer.

"Of course I am. You two have been flirting for months. Have you any idea how painful that was?" he asked with a wounded expression.

Mira stopped giggling and gave him a look of adoration.

"Fenris is merely a friend. There was never anything between us. For Fenris to care for me that way after everything I have done, would have taken years, and I was in love with **you**," she said softly, walking closer to him.

"I noticed how he looked at you. I was standing right there, you know," he objected, though his jealousy was slowly retreating.

"You did? Did you also notice how his weapon is always close by, when I'm near? Or how he will open and close his fists from time to time, preparing his tattoos to attack? Did you hear how he would constantly question me about bloodmagic? Or whenever I visited him, he would examine my arms to look for new cuts or scars? Constantly making every effort to be sure that I'm not just trying to deceive everyone?" she asked, with a hurt that made Anders' heart ache.

"What about that time with Kelder, where your hands locked, or when you sparred?" he then blurted out before he could stop himself.

He saw her shiver slightly.

"That hand lock, was one of the most... disturbing things I have ever tried. It felt very uncomfortable. I imagine Fenris is used to it, but the feeling is almost impossible to describe. It is as though you are one with that person the moment it happens and I could feel the pain Fenris feels every time he uses it. You can't even imagine it, love." She shivered again and Anders felt sorry for asking. He stroked her arms as she continued, "As for the sparring I can hardly recall it, since my memories have been far too engaged with thoughts of a certain warden," she purred.

"Anyone I know?" he rumbled, lowering his lips to hers.

"Perhaps," she teased and leaned into the kiss.

Then she suddenly swatted his arm, and he recoiled with surprise.

"What did I do?" he asked with widened eyes.

"That was for letting your imagination run away with you. You are biased, and to think you feel threatened by Fenris so easily. And after I spent so much time trying to make you understand how I felt about you," she pouted, and Anders chuckled.

Perhaps she was right. He had always thought himself beneath her and not worthy of her love, so he had deliberately looked for rivals who could offer her what he couldn't. In hindsight, he had only noticed Fenris watching her, but had never considered why he was doing so. Anders had just assumed that the elf was in love with her. Fenris did clearly care for her in some way, and it might even have been in a romantic light, but considering Fenris' suspicious nature, Mira was right. It would take years for the elf to feel anything similar to what Anders did. The night at the Hanged Man came to mind. Anders had assumed that the reason Fenris showed no reaction to him flirting with Mira, was that he felt no threat. He had also figured the reason Fenris always sat next to her was because he was taken with her. It should have occurred to Anders that it was to protect others from her. He had done so before. In the end, all that had really existed were gestures that might well be given to a friend, and inappropriate humour that most likely served to lessen the tension between the two. Was it possible that what Anders had perceived as a romance, was nothing more than a friendship blossoming from vigilance and fear?

_"I told you that your obsession with her was affecting your ability to reason,"_ Justice quipped smugly.

"Shut up, Justice," Anders grumbled, suddenly realising he'd said it out loud.

He looked at Mira, feeling embarrassed and uncertain, but quickly calmed when she just smiled at him.

"Am I distracting you from something?" she smiled kindly.

"Not something specific. It's just..." He struggled to find the words.

"He is worried that you will become less observant and that it will harm you in some way. It's all right. He is your friend and wants to keep you safe. I can hardly fault him for that, though he is a little like an overprotective father," she replied still smiling, and Anders looked at her with surprise.

"How do you know that?" he asked with astonishment.

"I... don't know. I know Justice in the same way I know you and the others. Your fears and your hopes... intimate things that I shouldn't... especially given how I used to be," she said with a little worry, as she bit her lower lip.

Then Anders thought of the ritual. If Mari had wanted more power, a perfect way to gain it would be to exploit others by using their fears and wishes against them. Blood magic was notorious for its ability to control minds and extract knowledge and information from the unwilling.

"The ritual you performed might have given you that knowledge. How much do you know?" he asked, in sudden fear that she knew things in his past that he was less than proud of.

"I know who you are, more than I know your actions. I know some things that are private, like what it means to be a warden, and what happened when you merged with Justice. But I remember it as if it was told to me, not from my own experience." She looked up at him as if afraid of his reaction.

Anders had to admit that this worried him a little. He didn't doubt that she would keep it secret, but he had never wanted her to know of the carnage Justice had created at their merging, of the wardens who had betrayed him and the templar allies lying scattered in all directions. He was just grateful that she had no images of how horrible it had been, that she had not seen him capable of something as horrid as anything Mari could have created. In his humiliation and anxiety, he could not trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded his understanding and stroked her cheek. He smiled as he once again appreciated that her hair was done up, and ran his fingers through her ponytail. When he let his hand fall away, she took her ponytail between her own hands and twisted it shyly.

"I decided to try and have it up. Do you like it?" she asked with coy charm.

"I'm always happy to see your lovely face," he smiled, and breathed a chuckle when she blushed.

"Come and have breakfast with me," she encouraged, taking his hand, clearly eager to deflect attention from herself.

Anders followed happily and with his jealousy pushed aside, he was able to enjoy just being near her without having to conceal his feelings.

* * *

For over a week, Mira and Anders didn't leave the estate. He had imagined them not leaving her bed for awhile if they finally decided to be together, but not like this. Instead of passionate lovemaking until dawn, they spent a lot of time talking, reading while sitting together in front of the fire, and doing research, of all things. Mira had still not given up on a way to undo tranquillity, and though he thought it a hopeless endeavour, he couldn't help but hope. Regardless of her change, she was still as stubborn as ever, and if she couldn't find a way she would carve one out. He admired her for it, but he couldn't help but worry that she would be disappointed. She did seem to leave Mari's journals alone, which pleased him. She was already tormented enough. He had seen them one night and contemplated reading them, but decided against it. He had personally seen many of the horrors described, and if the incident in the fade had proven anything, it was that not all things from the past should be revealed.

Anders had decided to give up acting on behalf of the mage cause until he got a better handle on Justice. He wanted to find out all he could about possession, and learn how it was undone. It had been known to be undone, but the persons would not be themselves after. They would be forever changed and very close to tranquil, distant and unable to relate completely to emotion.

Mira, still being emotionally troubled, brought unexpected challenges to Anders. She allowed him to kiss and hold her, but should it last too long or the caresses become too intimate, she would shy away from him. It was heartbreaking to see her so broken, painful to be turned away, and the ache within him had no means of release. Pulling away from her after a kiss seemed to become more difficult, to a point where he dared not give her more than a peck, for fear of losing control. One night he had seen her sitting on the bed after her bath, draped in a towel, her wet hair looking liquid, as drops of water on her skin sparkled and her body radiated the caressing glow of the fireplace. It had nearly destroyed him as his desire threatened to devour him... and her. He managed to go out into the courtyard unnoticed, where he panted and hissed, leaning his head and hands against the wall as if praying, trying to get himself under control. Having known her taste, her heat and her scent, it had been nearly impossible.

That night he had lain on the couch in the study with a book, pretending to be asleep, not trusting himself to sleep beside her. Mira had covered him with a blanket, removed the book and kissed him softly. The gesture had made his being melt with love for her. If those small signs were any indication, then his heart convinced him that waiting for her would be worth it. Still, his attempts to relieve himself of his sexual tension did not work as they once had.

He and Mira were sitting next to each other on the couch in the study, both reading. He found himself looking at her more than at his book, and her vague shy smile told him that she had noticed. She was seated leaning back against the armrest, with one leg on the cushions and the other dangling off the couch and swinging gently back and forth. Seeing her turned towards him with her legs parted, he would have expected any other woman to know how she was affecting him, but there was nothing to indicate that she was aware. Her hair had been worn up every day since he moved in, and this small change was a sign that she felt safer around him than others. Knowing it would be impossible for him to concentrate on his book, he put it down. He moved towards her and leaned against her. She looked at him with a smile.

"Hi..." she whispered with a smile.

"Hello love," he smirked and gave her a soft kiss.

He took her book and placed it on the table, as he deepened the kiss. He sighed as her fingers ran through his hair. He continued kissing her as the tips of his fingers caressed her cheek. He let them run along her jaw line, then slowly made their journey down her neck. When they ghosted her collarbone, her breath hitched and he could feel her slightly trembling. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, questioning.

"It's all right, love," he soothed, and gave her a small kiss.

Her body tensed and her hands stilled, while she breathed unevenly. He knew she was slightly uncomfortable, but they needed to take small steps and he would have to encourage her to take them. His fingers travelled up her throat to her chin before making their way down again. A small gasp of fear and desire escaped her as his fingers skimmed along her cleavage. He let his fingers drift until they reached the top of her corset, and he kissed her softly.

"I love you," he whispered tenderly.

His whisper was a promise, a reminder that he wouldn't harm her, do nothing she wouldn't allow. So he restrained himself from touching her with both hands, and from bringing his body so close as to make her feel trapped. Her only response was a small humming sound and she remained still, but it was enough for him to know that he may continue. He had not expected her to be encouraging, but she was at the moment being passive, not evasive. He again kissed her softly, his fingers wandering along the top of her corset, across her breast and slightly above her nipple. Her chest heaved shallowly and she panted her breaths on his lips, but he knew that she was not feeling only desire. He wished it were so, and in time, hopefully it would become true. The urge to fill his hand with the full swell of her breast was irresistible, but with the brush of his fingers, she closed her eyes shut and began trembling in earnest. He withdrew his touch and taking her face in both hands, kissed her lovingly. Only a moment passed before she returned the kiss and embraced him. In slow stages, they were making some progress. And despite his aching body, Anders was pleased.

"I love you," she smiled, with eyes closed when he pulled away, but he didn't miss the apology hidden within the declaration.

"I love you too, and nothing is going to change that," he tried to comfort, and was pleased that it seemed to be working.

"Varric will be here in a little while. We should get ready," she stated, as she noted the time and stood up.

Varric's brother, Bartrand, who had left them to die in the Deep Roads, had returned to Kirkwall and Varric had asked Hawke to help confront him. Mira had agreed to help Varric, but Anders knew it was strange for her to confront a man she had no memory of.

"Are you sure you wish for me to come?" Anders asked with remorse.

He had not even been outside the estate since the incident in the Gallows, and though he had seen Varric once since then, Anders worried that his friend would now see him only as an abomination.

"You were stuck in that pit the same as us, Blondie. I thought you would jump at the chance to rain fire down on him," Varric smiled from the door.

"Varric!" Mira said happily, and walked over to greet her friend.

"You look almost radiant, dear Waffles. Your doing, no doubt," Varric winked at Anders who merely grinned in reply.

"Let me get our staves and we can go," Mira replied, ignoring Varric's prodding.

When Mira left, Anders rubbed his face with his hands, while the anguish from the Gallows filled his being. Losing control like that had frightened him and he was terrified it could happen again. He knew he couldn't stay hidden like this forever, but he didn't know if he had the strength to deal with his demons... demon?

"Oh, cheer up, Blondie. You're making me cry just looking at you," Varric exclaimed, looking at Anders.

"Don't." Anders shook his head.

"You made a mistake. It happens," Varric tried to comfort.

"I almost killed a girl," Anders reminded, with sadness.

"You've killed two-hundred and fifty-four by my last count. Plus about five hundred men, a few dozen giant spiders, and at least two demons," Varric said almost casually.

Anders sighed. Varric meant well, but he himself could not make light of the situation. He had seen what his vengeance could do and it had left him scarred.

"It's not the same," Anders denied, not being able to shake this off as easily as Varric.

"Why? Because this one you feel bad about? Maybe that's the problem," Varric insisted.

Still leaning forward, Anders hadn't seen Mira's return until she knelt in front of him. She took his chin and made him look at her.

"It was a unique situation, and you did it not out of malice, but out of fear. It is so rare for you to lose control, and I trust you. And in those one out of a hundred times when it does happen, we know that you can resist and regain yourself," she soothed.

"You have too much faith in me. Without you, I would never have known who was there before it was too late. How can I even trust myself to heal anymore? What if that creature of vengeance turns on a patient? Will I..." he began, but she kissed him softly.

"Your patients don't try to make innocent mages tranquil or show up with a group of templars with the intention of killing you. And if that happens, **you** will be the least of their problems." Her seriousness then turned into a mischievous smirk, as her free hand was engulfed with fire. Varric patted Bianca and Mongrel barked and growled in agreement.

This made Anders chuckle, before he sighed resignedly and stood up, taking his staff as Mira passed it to him.

* * *

The sun was slowly setting as they made their way through Hightown towards Bartrand's new estate. Some of the shops were still open, and as they waited for Isabella, Mira looked at some of the wares. Varric and Anders were sitting on a bench, while Mira studied the finery on display. Suddenly two elves passed her.

"Maker, that's Hawke! Don't look at her," one of the elves whispered urgently to the other.

And though the elf had meant to be discreet, he was anything but. Anders noticed that Mira heard as she briefly looked at them with a pained expression and then turned her gaze away, probably not wanting to frighten them. The merchant then looked at her, his eyes slightly widened.

"Oh, mistress Hawke. Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner. You can have this Antivan silk on the house," the merchant offered urgently, practically smelling of fear.

"It's beautiful, but no, thank you. You have to make a living," Mira smiled softly.

The merchant looked relieved, and Mira walked away. The pain on her face made Anders' heart ache. His heart tightened further, when one hand reached for the leather band and she let her hair fall down again. The black veil covering her once more, almost gave her the appearance of being in mourning. Anders stood up, walked over to her and without any discretion, pulled her to him and kissed her. He kissed her firmly, making sure to dispel any doubt in her mind that he was by no means ashamed of her, as she was of herself. She looked up at him with surprise and a smile when he pulled away, but before she could say something, Isabella's catcalls were heard through the courtyard. Anders gave Isabella an icy glare, but did to some extent take comfort in the fact that people were paying more attention to her, than to him and Mira. Mira encouraged them to get going and hid her blush beneath her hair. Anders took Mira's hand and decided to try to take her mind off what she was feeling. Anders looked at Varric.

"Boiling in oil?" Anders grinned and Varric caught his hint immediately.

"Too prosaic. Trapped in a cave with hungry bears, right at the spring thaw," Varric suggested.

"That lets him off too easy. Dipped in molten gold and left as a statue in the Viscount's Keep," Anders offered.

"Oooooh. That's poetic!" Varric chuckled.

Mira gave them an odd look.

"And what are we discussing?" she asked.

"What to do to Bartrand when I find him," Varric grumbled.

"Any suggestions?" Anders smirked.

To his regret, Mira's smile was sad.

"What did you fantasize about doing to me, I wonder?" she sighed and let go of his hand.

Anders could have cursed himself, and Varric gave him an almost defeated look. What made it worse was that they had joked like this about her. But Anders was certainly not going to tell her that they had joked about leading her into a Qunari ambush, or elegantly push her off a cliff and feed her corpse to the rats in Darktown. He considered making a suggestive comment, but that was hardly appropriate either.

"I didn't leave it to the imagination, sweetness," Isabella purred, wrapping an arm around Mira's shoulder.

Anders was annoyed, grateful and jealous all at once, and it was only a small relief when Mira pushed away the pirate, brushing off the comment with a small laugh. Mostly because he knew her laugh wasn't genuine. So Anders was almost relieved when they arrived at Bartrand's house. Varric paused, as the house looked abandoned.

"I don't understand. My contacts saw people making deliveries here last week. This looks like it has been abandoned for months," Varric wondered.

"Still, we should look inside. There might be some information about where he has gone," Mira suggested.

Varric nodded and they walked inside.

The interior of the house was nothing like any of them had expected. Corpses of servants were everywhere. Their skin had been peeled off in various places, ears and tongues cut, and their blood spattered on the walls. They walked over the gore and Anders watched Mira. Mari would barely have noticed this, but Mira had turned pale and had to look away. He wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but he thought it unnecessary somehow. Besides, it seemed that she was concentrating to avoid seeing, so interrupting her would probably just make it worse.

As they ventured through the house, they were attacked by mercenary guards who were crazed beyond reason. Anders determined that Mira still refused to kill anyone with her magic, and along their journey through the house, she had not killed a single one. She was far from useless. Her spells kept them at bay and protected Isabella, Varric and himself, in addition to knocking their enemies unconscious. She barely used her staff, as the magic channelled through her more effortlessly than he had seen any other mage do. Whatever Mari had done in that ritual had made her more powerful, and Anders thanked the Maker that it had changed her personality as well. The destruction Mari would have been able to cause would have been unimaginable.

They finally found a surviving servant who still had a clear mind. The dwarf explained how Bartrand had been poisoned by the idol he had stolen in the Deep Roads, and that he had recently sold it. The servant said that Bartrand claimed it sang to him, and that he had tormented his servants in order for them to hear the song as well. Mira told the servant to run, and they approached the room where Bartrand was hiding. The dwarf attacked as soon as he saw them, and after he'd been beaten almost to within an inch of his life, Bartrand surrendered.

"I can't... I can't hear it anymore. I just need to hear the song again... just for a minute," Bartrand began ranting. "Stop saying that! I know I shouldn't have sold the idol to that woman! It was a mistake! A mistake..." Bartrand hissed.

Varric stepped forward and grabbed his brother's shoulders.

"Bartrand. Get ahold of yourself! Do you know where you are? Do you know what you've done?" Varric asked desperately.

"Varric! You'll help me! Won't you, little brother? Help me find it again. You were always the good one..."

"Help you? Bartrand, you left me to die!" Varric exclaimed with rancour.

"He wasn't the only one..." Mira muttered under her breath, with a pain and remorse that cut into Anders' heart. The knowledge of Carver's death no doubt lingering in her mind.

"You left all your men to die! And for what? Some trinket? Look at yourself! Look at what you have done to the men and women who served you! Where's your nobility, brother? Where is your dwarven honour?" Varric continued with a hiss.

Mira took Anders' hand and looked at him pleadingly, an unspoken request and hope that he could help somehow. Anders squeezed her hand and stepped forward.

"This doesn't feel natural. Had he not been a dwarf, I would think a demon did this. His mind has been... poisoned by something powerful," Anders explained.

He took another step forward and healed Bartrand, well knowing that it would be only be temporary.

"It's all I can do. It won't last. I'm sorry," Anders apologized with heartfelt regret, before feeling Mira's hand on his shoulder, a wordless comfort telling him she knew he had done all he could.

"Varric?" Bartrand asked, with sudden recognition.

"I'm here," Varric soothed.

"Varric, what have I done?" Bartrand entreated with horror.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know," Varric answered, with a pained expression.

"Make it stop, little brother. Make it stop! Don't let me... don't let House Tethras fall like this! I know... I don't deserve it. But please Varric, don't leave me like this. Make it stop, " Bartrand begged.

"Enough with the speeches. I'll get you to a healer and you'll be fine," Varric replied.

Anders knew that Varric was aware nothing could be done for his brother. Knew that the promise he had just made was an empty one, but what else could he have done? Varric promised to make someone come and get Bartrand and they left the house. None of them said a word until outside, and Anders didn't notice Mira falling behind. Varric looked up at Anders.

"I almost wish you hadn't wiggled your fingers and cleared his head. I liked it better when I just wanted to kill him," Varric grunted, with a small smile.

Anders was about to reply, when Isabella called out.

"Anders!"

He turned around and saw Mira falling over, while Isabella tried to lower her slowly to the ground. Anders ran over and dropped to his knees next to them.

"What happened?" he asked, almost in panic as he examined Mira.

"I don't know. She looked pale and then she suddenly just fainted. Is she all right?" Isabella asked with concern.

"Yes, but we should get her home. I don't know how long it will be until she wakes up," Anders replied, and lifted Mira into his arms.


	17. Chapter 17 Retrocede

**Retrocede**

Anders carried Mira to the estate and as soon as he was inside the door, Mongrel picked himself up, whining as he saw his mistress. Anders walked past the dog and up to the bedroom, with Isabella and Varric right behind him. Mongrel followed as well and stood at the foot at the bed as Anders placed Mira on it. Both his heart and mind were racing as he tried to make sense of the situation. Was there something in Bartrand's house that could have caused this? Mira looked pale and her breathing was still, while small beads of sweat had formed all over her. Anders began examining her, but what he found didn't make sense at first.

"She has been poisoned..." Anders pronounced, staggered.

"By something in the house?" Varric asked with great worry.

That thought made Anders tremble. The thought of her ending up like Bartrand after everything she had been through... The thought of her being alive, but with a sickness he couldn't cure. He didn't think he would survive it. He had finally found some happiness in his life and the thought of losing it so soon... he couldn't breathe. Somewhere in the distant corner of his mind, Anders felt Justice reminding him of the task at hand. He began healing her again and was relieved to find that she was not afflicted with the same thing as Bartrand.

"No, it isn't," Anders said with relief.

"Thank the ancestors!" Varric exclaimed.

"Is she going to die?" Isabella asked, looking worried.

"No, it's a mild poisoning, but she is going to be sick for a while," he answered, and the others loosed a breath of relief.

It was a wonder how much had changed in half a year. At that time, they had seriously discussed whether to let her live or die, but now... If Mira died, they would all have lost something of great value to them. And Anders would be losing the only person in the world who loved him.

"For me to treat it however, I need to find out where it came from. Did any of you use any poison while at the estate?" Anders asked as he continued to examine her.

Isabella and Varric looked at each other and then Anders, while shaking their heads. His hands hovered over her stomach and he felt a radiating heat singeing his fingers through his magic.

"It's something she has consumed..." Anders concluded with a fearful expression.

"Who would want her killed? Never mind, stupid question..." Isabella corrected herself.

"I'll go look into who might have done this," Varric declared, on his way out the door.

"No, Varric, just take care of everything related to Bartrand. Mira has been in her own house for more than a week and she hasn't eaten or drunk anything in that time that wasn't made by Bodahn, Orana or herself. If anything suspicious has happened, they'll know," Anders replied with his kindest smile.

"At least they did a poor job," Isabella quipped.

"That's a great comfort, Rivani," Varric rebuked sarcastically, and looked at Anders with an uncertain expression.

"It's all right. She will be fine and I'll watch over her," Anders assured, and Varric nodded as he left.

Anders turned his focus back to Mira, her body wet with perspiration. Her clothes were slowly becoming soaked, and if she was not to catch a cold as well, they needed to be removed. Without much thought he removed her corset, but when he began opening her shirt, he paused. His view of her chest heaving as a small drop of sweat travelled along the swell of her breasts, was almost too much. He had dreamed of her body reacting in that way, but for a different cause entirely. Envisioned how she would sigh his name into his ear in sync with the rise and fall of her chest. How that moist skin would feel pressed against his own, while he answered her song by chanting her name. His fingers froze as he stared at the button that would give him the first small sight of her breast band. He should be a healer at this moment, but he was also a starving man. His thoughts were led to the reason why he was starving in the first place. She was so damaged and it was so difficult for her to trust. Anders could manage to get her undressed, even though being haunted by her would become more painful, and sleeping beside her after, would be even more difficult. But how would she feel about him undressing her? Anders stepped away and looked at Isabella.

"Isabella, would you remove her damp clothes please, while I talk to Bodahn?" he requested.

Isabella gave him a curious look.

"Why wouldn't you do it? You're her lover, not me," she asked, puzzled, until she noticed how flustered he looked.

"Really, Anders? You have been living here for almost two weeks and you still haven't..." Isabella marvelled, showing her amusement.

"Don't," Anders snapped.

"Come on, Anders. You have been holding out on her! Are you afraid that Justice will suddenly lose it? She might enjoy that kind of ravaging... though she does usually prefer to do the ravaging," Isabella chuckled.

That made Anders' heart stop for a moment. With everything going on, he hadn't even considered that Justice might lose control at such an event. He tried to calm himself, knowing Justice manifested himself when Anders was feeling enraged, not when he was feeling love or passion. Still, Isabella had hit a nerve.

"Come, now. You, she and Justice, that can only get exciting! As they say, two's company, but three is better. I know she will enjoy it," Isabella teased with a purr.

Something inside Anders snapped as he looked at Isabella, who instantly sobered at his cold glare.

"You might have known Mari, but you **nothing** of Mira. Now please just do as I asked," Anders hissed and walked past the pirate.

In the doorway, he stopped and turned to watch her.

"And keep those comments to yourself while around her. You can't even begin to imagine how she feels."

And with that, he left the room.

Trying to focus, he walked downstairs and found a worried looking Bodahn in the kitchen. He was busy heating water and had procured several herbs.

"Master Anders. Your friend Varric told me the mistress was ill, so I started heating the water for you and brought out the herbs you normally use," Bodahn told him, and pointed towards the table.

Anders had to smile at the dwarf's loyalty and consideration.

"Thank you. Do you know if there have been any strange deliveries to the house or if some of our food might have been poisoned?" Anders asked looking around, his mind analysing what might have caused Mira's illness.

"No messere. None at all, and we have all eaten the same food, so if that were the case we would all have been sick... unless..." he hesitated.

"Unless what, Bodahn?" Anders asked urgently.

The dwarf seemed to be considering something, and then looked at Anders.

"The mistress made me promise not to tell you, but under the circumstances... the mistress has been making potions in the basement, experimenting, I believe. It is possible that one of those made her ill," Bodahn informed.

"Potions? Do you know what they were for?" Anders asked, near distress.

"I'm sorry, Master, I don't. I can take you down there if you like. You might be able to find out what it is," Bodahn offered.

"Lead the way."

Bodahn opened the cellar door in the kitchen and took a lantern. They walked down into the cellars Anders felt he knew well by now, through his own secret passage between his clinic and his home. They came to one of the smaller rooms and Bodahn opened the door. It hadn't even been locked. Anders lit the fire and Bodahn left him alone to examine the small herbalist station. Anders looked around at the shelves and inspected all the herbs. Many of them were very expensive and were the same as those she had sent to his clinic. There was also a shelf filled with books and recipes for creating potions. What had she been researching and why? He walked to a shelf filled with potions to see if he could understand what they were. All were labelled with numbers rather than names. Most of them were lyrium and healing potions, but others where unlike any he had ever seen. He had never known Mari to have been much of a herbalist, but he had long since come to the conclusion that he had not known her as well as he thought. For Mira to be able to make these potions, would have taken years of study. Mari would have to have been good at this before her accident, undoubtedly another way for her to gain power. Unable to recognize the potions, Anders turned to the table holding the tools to make the potions, notes and some potions. The first he found were notes regarding establishing long term links to the fade without the use of lyrium, something that would in theory, sustain the connection.

"The tranquil..." Anders whispered, a little sadly.

His eyes then caught the glimpse of a purple potion, half drunk. It must have been the one she had consumed that day, since the drops running down the vial had still not dried. He browsed through the notes almost urgently and finally found something consistent with the potion. Unfortunately, it didn't reveal what the potion was for, merely its ingredients. Anders was slightly disappointed, but regardless, it was enough for him to make an antidote, and he began the process, taking advantage of the expensive tools at his disposal. All this worried him. What was she doing? And why hadn't she told him? Didn't she trust him or was it that she knew he wouldn't approve? Quickly finishing the antidote, Anders left the laboratory, still lacking answers that he would have to get from Mira herself.

* * *

When Anders returned, he saw that Isabella had undressed Mira and put her in one of her nightgowns. Not surprisingly, Isabella had chosen the most revealing one that only barely covered Mira. Isabella had also opened a window to let in some fresh air. Anders walked over to the bed and smiled at the pirate.

"Take care of her," Isabella said softly, and left the room.

Now knowing what was wrong, Anders began purifying her as best he could. His magic alone wouldn't do it, but it would be enough to wake her so she could drink the antidote. After healing her, he sat on the bed watching her for ten minutes, before deciding to try to wake her. He caressed her cheek and her eyes fluttered open and looked at him, questioning.

"You're home, love, and you are going to be fine," he said softly.

Her eyes grew suddenly panicked, and she sat up, pushing him away from her almost violently.

"Move!" she ordered.

Anders moved away and his heart stopped. She'd said that in a way he had never heard from Mira, but only from Mari. _"No, no, no, please! Dear Maker, don't do this to me!_" his mind begged. Hawke jumped off the bed in a hurry, then ran directly for the open window. She leaned against the sill and threw up into the chamber pot next to the window. Nausea was a common side effect of poisoning, and Anders would have helped her if fear had not paralyzed him. After a few moments, Hawke raised herself.

"I'm sorry," she said, wishing that he hadn't seen.

Anders released a breath and couldn't stop himself from laughing in relief. Mari would never have apologized, only his Mira would. Her behaviour had been nothing more than urgency. Mira looked at him with a scowl, clearly feeling offended and embarrassed.

"Some healer you are, laughing at your patient," she sneered.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm just relieved to see you awake. You frightened me," he said softly, picking up a glass of water from the nightstand and handing it to her.

"I'm sorry..." she apologized, looking pale and ashamed.

"Come." He gestured for her to return to the bed.

After tucking her in, he gave her the antidote and helped her drink it slowly. She instantly seemed to feel better and rewarded him a small smile. After the shock she had given him, her smile was the most wonderful thing in the world.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"As soon as we entered Bartrand's estate, I began to feel sick. Brief flashes of memory of what I had once done, came to mind... it was sickening. I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand and calm myself. But as soon as we were outside it all became so overwhelming... I felt so sick, ashamed and horrified... I became dizzy and was unable to breathe... then I just collapsed, I think... I'm a monster!" she sobbed violently.

Anders reached for her and pulled her close. He kissed her hair as she buried her face in his pouldrons, and wrapped his arms around her. For minutes, she sat there whimpering while he held her, whispering meaningless nothings into her hair. Telling her over and over that she had been sick, reminding her that the person who had done those horrible things didn't exist anymore. She finally calmed down and after a bit, Anders couldn't stop himself from asking.

"What did the potion do?"

She pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes wide and still a little ashamed.

"You know..." A statement, not a question.

"Yes, and it poisoned you. That, combined with your small panic attack, must have caused you to faint," he concluded, only then realising that his tone had been reprimanding.

"I... I wanted to get some of my memories back... I wanted to remember my mother, father and my siblings, so I wasn't left with only the memories and knowledge of their deaths. I walk into that woman's room and I smell her perfume and caress her things, while feeling faint whispers of something I can't hold on to. I didn't... I..." she tried desperately to explain.

Anders kissed her brow softly.

"It's all right. I understand why you feel that way," he soothed.

"I only made things worse... I only seem to remember horrors, when I want to remember love... perhaps what I want to remember isn't there." She closed her eyes for a moment.

She then looked at him and raised a hand to caress his jaw.

"At least I have you," she smiled fondly, and he kissed her brow again.

"Your parents loved you very much and wherever they are, I'm sure they are proud of who you have become."

* * *

They were walking through Hightown again, towards the Chantry. It had been two weeks since the incident at Bartrand's house and Mira refused to leave her hair up when outside the house. Her whole demeanour changed when out in the open, and she had become skilled in not drawing attention to herself. She was more subtle than the rogues with whom they associated themselves. Speaking of which...

"So tell me, why we are helping out the devout prince again?" Anders said with slight annoyance.

"Because, we are the good people, my love. When people ask for help, that's what we do." She smiled with mischievous innocence.

That had him smiling as well; a former blood mage and an abomination, walking around Kirkwall doing generous deeds and charity, while the Chantry and its templars deemed them to be the evil by which all deeds should be measured. Was it the Maker's sense of humour, which led to ironic situations like this? Illegal mages, helping a man from the very organisation that would see them locked up for no other reason than a desire to help. The hypocrisy of the situation was laughable, had it not borne such severe consequences.

"I know," she said suddenly, and took his hand.

"Know what?" he asked, confused.

"You made that frown you have, whenever you are contemplating the injustices the Chantry does to its people. And not just mages, but all the people who could benefit," she explained, and squeezed his hand fondly.

Anders questioned himself. Was this merely a dream he had been trapped in, that she was not only supporting him wholeheartedly, but also giving him so much love in return? All that convinced him that it wasn't a dream, was how much she was troubled. At night he pretended to sleep as she lay beside him, and he knew she was awake watching him. The last few nights, she had hesitantly touched him, let her hand wander down his chest towards his stomach. Keeping still had been near impossible, but with a strength he assumed came from Justice, he held back. As her hand reached his abdomen, he shivered and she pulled her hand away as if burned. "Progress," he reminded himself. It was progress.

They arrived outside the Chantry where Sebastian was waiting, and he greeted them.

"Thank you for doing this, Hawke. I am truly humbled by your offer of help," Sebastian smiled.

"Of course I'll help. I thought we might go get Fenris to help as well," Mira suggested, as they began walking towards the part of Hightown where Sebastian wanted to confront the family behind the murder of his own.

"And the day just keeps getting better," Anders quipped with sarcasm.

Mira gave him a mocking scowl and gently slapped his stomach, only to giggle when he faked pain.

"So, if you are able to reason with the Harriman's, will you go back to Stark Haven?" Mira enquired.

"I don't know. When my brother was the heir, I wanted to be in his place. I was bitterly jealous of him, but I found peace in the Chantry. I found a place where I belong and to abandon that, and my vow to the Maker for a mere title... I don't know if it would be right for me," Sebastian sighed.

"The welfare of the people of Stark Haven and your obligations to them are just as important as your own wishes. You can't just look at it from your own perspective," Mira urged seriously.

"I don't have hubris enough to imagine it matters to the people, who rules them," Sebastian replied.

"With all due respect, then they don't do a very good job," Mira said firmly

"When there is peace people don't care who the leader is. It is when there is war and famine that people look to their leaders," Sebastian tried to clarify.

"People should always be able to look to their leaders, even during peace. During peace the rulers should take the opportunity to make society evolve. Change things for the better and improve society," Mira explained.

"You don't think people thrive under consistency?" Sebastian asked, a little puzzled.

"They are able to maintain their existence during the consistency you speak of. But if people are to truly flourish, then society must evolve and adapt to the changes around them. A society is like a living organism that needs to be nurtured and nourished for it to grow, expand and truly thrive. Otherwise it will eventually collapse."

"That is not necessarily true. The Chantry has remained for a thousand years," Sebastian argued.

"And now it is struggling to survive. Its refusal to accept change causes trouble with the elves, mages, Qunari and even within their own ranks."

"Mira is right. The Chantry cannot remain a part of our society if it is not willing to admit that the templars are beyond their control and that it must accept everyone," Anders interjected.

"And by this you mean mages," Sebastian scoffed.

"No, I mean lyrium smugglers," Anders retaliated with poisonous sarcasm.

Mira must have sensed his feelings getting the better of him, because she chose this moment to take his hand and give him a loving gaze.

"In any case, as a leader you could improve the lot of many people, instead of just resigning yourself to the assumption that you would make no difference at all. In the end, it is in your hands whether or not being Prince would matter," Mira replied, while squeezing Anders' hand.

"That is an interesting view... I will think on what you have said," Sebastian granted, as they approached Fenris' mansion.

They knocked on Fenris' door and when it opened, Isabella was standing there with a bottle of wine in her hand. Through the door, Anders saw Fenris getting up and setting down a bottle as well.

"Hey, Hawke, we were just waiting for you. Are we ready to go?" Isabella asked cheerfully.

"Ready when you are," Mira smiled.

Fenris came to the door with his sword on his back, and Anders could smell the red wine on both of them.

"Honestly, two drunks? Is this the best we can do?" Anders smirked.

"Anders!" Mira chided.

"They could hit one of us by mistake," Anders defended, still smiling.

"You are right, it would be unwise for us to come along without testing our abilities. Are you volunteering?" Isabella laughed good naturedly.

"Believe me, mage, if I hit you it won't be by mistake," Fenris smirked.

"You know what, I think Sebastian and I can take it from here," Mira chuckled and tucked her arm in Sebastian's before walking along.

Fenris and Isabella walked past Anders and caught up to Hawke.

"All right, but if Fenris falls on his own sword, I'm not healing him," Anders grinned, and followed them.

* * *

They had only just entered the Harriman's estate, when they realised something was horribly wrong. The door was unlocked, no guards were posted and no servants were in sight. Upon hearing the crash of empty bottles falling, they picked up pace and followed the noise. Down in the wine cellar stood a woman in noble dress, shouting at an empty wine keg.

"More! Give me more, you sons of bitches!" she cried, staggering back and forth.

"Ooooh, I know that look," Isabella said, with a bit of sympathy.

"She is going to have some headache," Mira grinned.

"It's like she doesn't even see us," Sebastian commented, dumbfounded.

"Perhaps she is too drunk to perceive us?" Anders offered.

"If only I were that lucky," Fenris remarked drily, looking at Anders, who responded with a scowl.

"Let's see if we can find someone with their senses still intact," Mira suggested.

They walked up the stairs and saw a man and two servants standing in the middle of a room. They were melting gold in a pot, over a blazing fire. The male servant was holding a knife to the female's throat, while the nobleman was asking for more gold to melt. All of them were oblivious to their presence.

"Please, messere!" the female elf begged.

"Don't fear. You'll be beautiful! Pour it over her!" the nobleman ordered.

"No, don't! You'll kill her!" Sebastian protested, horrified.

He then rushed up, knocked the male servant unconscious, and allowed the female to escape.

"Fair punch," Anders complimented, before realising he had spoken.

"Thank you... Now let us find out what is going on. Something is very wrong," Sebastian replied.

Sebastian explained that the two nobles they had encountered were Lady Harriman's children, and he suggested that they should search for her husband. In an attempt to find him, they ventured upstairs. They entered one of the rooms, and Anders' eyes widened. Sex toys lay everywhere, from whips to chains, and on the bed was Lady Harriman's husband, with a naked elf girl on her knees before him.

"Oh... lower... lower..." the man growled.

Anders covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing, and he could hear Isabella and Fenris struggling as well. He then noticed Mira bolting out the room and the grin on his face instantly vanished.

_"Why don't I ever think?"_ he cursed himself as he went after her.

He should have realised she would be affected by this.

_"Sexual activities are distracting, it would seem,"_ Justice replied smugly.

Anders left the room and saw Mira not far away. He approached her as she leaned against the stair rail, looking pale, and he worried that she might need to vomit.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked softly.

"I'll be fine," she muttered, not looking at him.

"Are you sure?" he asked attentively, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I said I'm fine!" she snapped, jerking her shoulder away.

Anders pulled his hand back, feeling hurt. The way she lashed out at him was just like Mari would have done. This similarity frightened him for a moment, but only until she looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bark at you like that," she said with true regret, making Anders' pain subside.

"It's alright," he soothed.

"No, it's not. I shouldn't have," she sighed, before turning to him and embracing him.

Hesitantly he wrapped his arms around her, afraid that she might be repulsed by his touch again. But she was welcoming, and he released a breath that he'd been unaware of holding. He kissed her hair and rested his cheek on her head while taking in her vanilla scent. Sebastian and the others came out the room and Mira pulled away.

"I beg your pardon Hawke. I did not mean to expose you to such things," Sebastian apologized, clearly mortified.

"No apology necessary," Isabella smirked.

"It's fine. You couldn't have known," Mira replied, her smile failing.

To Anders' surprise, Isabella stepped forward and made Mira look at her. Some understanding seemed to arise in the pirate's features, and for a moment, she looked at Anders with shock. Isabella put her arm around Hawke and said softly,

"We'll talk once this is done."

Mira nodded, and after giving a shake to clear her head, continued leading them through the house. In the cellars, they found a passage to some ruins none of them had ever known existed. As they made their way through it, they were surrounded by demons and undead. Mira fought these with more than she used against humanoids. Now she unleashed her full power, encrusting them with ice, shattering them with lightning and burning them with her blue fire. A fire so hot that her companions needed to keep their distance. Her force spell moved their enemies about like puppets, deprived of free will and ability to move on their own, and all of this was done without the use of her staff. Anders knew that Mira had become powerful, but to see her unleash it like this... without holding back at all, was beautiful and terrifying all at once. Even for a fellow mage. The Maker must have shown them mercy, since Mari had changed into Mira when these powers were acquired.

At the end of the ruins, they finally found Lady Harriman on her knees before a desire demon.

"Oh, but we have guests," the demon purred.

Not realising the power it faced, the demon perished in agony, incinerated in blue flame. They all looked at Mira with surprise. Mira's anger had resembled the fury of Mari, but tears misted her eyes, and as soon as the spell had been cast, she was in full control of herself. Whenever Mari released such a force, she had been unable to regain control of herself so quickly. Mira looked at them with a small sad smile.

"I have little patience with demons," she shrugged, and though she hid it, Anders knew her experiences in the fade had made her act so aggressively.

Upon seeing her demon dead, Lady Harriman attacked them with magic the demon had bestowed upon her. Outmatched, the woman quickly fell, slain by Fenris' blade. Anders watched as Fenris regarded Mira. She had kept her promise not to take a humanoid life with her magic, and Fenris seemed to begin to actually trust her word. They ventured back up to the cellar where they met Lady Harriman's daughter, Flora. She was confused, and explained that she had finally awakened from some horrible nightmare. A feeling both Anders and Mira knew far too well.

"Did your mother order the attack on Sebastian's family?" Mira asked.

Flora looked ashamed and her eyes teared. Her remorse was evident.

"You know Mother, Sebastian. She was always jealous of your family," Flora explained with a pained expression.

"Was your mother a mage, since she found that demon?" Mira asked.

"No, we have never had magic in our line. Perhaps that made Mother too confident. She thought she could deal with a demon and not fall prey to it," Flora replied.

"Right! It's demons that should be feared, not mages!" Anders replied heatedly.

He was so tired of mages being blamed for the demons' atrocities. Most mages were seen as a meal by demons, not as their consorts. They were the victims who were punished for the crimes of their attackers. Mira suddenly looked very pale and tired. Fearing she would faint again, Anders stepped up next to her and began leading her out.

"You will have to deal with this on your own, Sebastian," Anders heard Isabella say before she followed them.

Outside, Anders had Mira sit on a bench and gave her a water skin. He saw Isabella exit the estate and walk over to them. Isabella took Mira's hand and made her stand. Mira didn't say a word, seemingly too tired to even stand on her own.

"You're coming with me, sweetness," Isabella said with concern.

"She needs to go home," Anders insisted.

"In this situation, I know what she needs better than you," Isabella replied calmly.

"You don't understand..." Anders began.

Isabella gave him a stern look.

"I was married to man once. Sold to him like I was nothing but a dog or a trophy. Do you think he cared if I wanted to have sex or not?" Isabella asked firmly.

Anders looked at her with sudden understanding. Isabella did know what had happened to Mira and she had found it out by simply observing her reactions.

"You should have told me this sooner, so that I could help her. You are a good man, but this you will never understand until you have tried it. I'll have her home in one piece," Isabella replied kindly.

Anders kissed Mira softly and she smiled sweetly at him before walking away with Isabella. She looked so frail and broken, but this was something perhaps he couldn't help her overcome.


	18. Chapter 18 Debauched

**Debauched**

Anders had hoped that Mira could have a little distance from all her troubles, and that it would offer the opportunity for her to get well. He should have known better than to hope for such mercies in Kirkwall.

A Qunari delegate had gone missing right after attending a diplomatic meeting at the Viscount's office. Relations with the Qunari were already strained, and this development could only make them worse.

Anders had attended to his clinic while Mira visited the Viscount's office. He was livid when Mira later arrived to tell him that she had been asked to deal with this conflict, and that as soon as she had received the news, Mira had gone straight to the Arishok to inform him of it – an action that would normally lead to death. Anders was certain that only the Arishok's respect for her had prevented that fate. Mira's goodness led her to take so many reckless and needless risks as she sought to accomplish her redemption in any way possible. Anders loved her for her courage, but it also made him fearful. At times, it troubled him that Mira did not seem to have Mari's desire for survival. It had him wondering if she may have thought death would be welcome, and the one reason she hadn't ended her existence was that she felt obligated to make up for the crimes of her past.

_"We will have to watch her closely,"_ Justice said with concern.

That night, they had gone with Aveline and Varric to the Hanged Man, in search of the guards suspected of kidnapping the Qunari. They had managed to find one and Aveline had given him a scolding that Anders was certain would terrify even the Arishok. Where the search led them next did not make Anders feel any more at ease. Another risk undertaken by his beloved was to confront those who opposed not only the Qunari, but the mages as well – The Chantry.

"So, a drunk says that the Grand Cleric is funding zealots through a rogue templar. This is enough evidence for you?" Anders fumed, as they walked through the monastery.

"It's to be a civil enquiry about a missing Qunari... at first," Mira smirked deviously at his evaluation.

"Hey, it's not like the templars are going to like me, no matter what I do," Anders sighed in reply.

"Chapter the last, 'Pissing off Everyone'," Varric mumbled.

Mira walked up to the nearest lay sister and requested to see the Grand Cleric, only for sister Petrice to show herself instead. Anders' blood ran cold. Mira had so far been able to avoid the corrupt Chantry sister. At their last encounter, a scheme to incite hatred of the Qunari and to begin a 'purging' of them from Kirkwall, had come close to getting all of them killed. Mari had gone into a scathing rage, and if not for her risk of being exposed as an apostate, she would have cut Petrice into tiny little pieces and tapped her blood from her body. Blood to keep in vials like lyrium, to satisfy Mari's never ending list of perverted desires - it wouldn't have been the first time the Queen of Horrors had done so.

"She tried to have us killed, once. Be careful," Anders managed to whisper before Petrice approached.

Anders watched Mira to see if she recognized her. Mira was at a disadvantage at this moment, knowing the person, but not how they knew each other. That particular ability Mari had granted Mira was not always an easy one to deal with.

"Sister Petrice," Mira greeted, with a cold-eyed smile.

"**Mother** Petrice. Time has changed us both," Petrice said with satisfaction.

"A templar may have misjudged an order and abused the Grand Cleric's authority," Mira began.

"I assure you, the templars would never embarrass the Chantry, at the risk of incurring the Knight-Commander's wrath," Petrice denied.

Anders could swear he heard Varric's teeth grinding. Neither of them believed a word that conniving, manipulating shrew said. The question was, would Mira?

"And yet I know of people who were hired for that **righteous** task of kidnapping a Qunari delegate," Mira returned, with cold sarcasm.

Petrice frowned as she gave Mira a deadly stare.

"A pause that says you knew, but does her Grace?" Mira continued, and Anders felt a sense of satisfaction that his lover was difficult to deceive.

"The Grand Cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker," Petrice answered calmly.

"I'll speak to her Grace another time – you will not always be here," Mira replied with the same calm, and turned to walk away.

"Stubborn... all right, Serah Hawke, if you won't abandon this, let me offer you something. The templar you seek is a radical that has grown... unreliable. Confronting him might do us all a favour."

"And what is he is to you?"

"He is my former bodyguard, Ser Varnell. Assume what you wish, but I offer him to you as... reconciliation. Meet me at this location. I invite you, Serah Hawke, to come and see the unrest these Qunari have inspired," Petrice replied, handing Mira piece of paper and taking her leave.

Mira looked at the paper and frowned, rubbing her forehead, desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

"That's a setup. You know that, right?" Anders asked.

"I know, but right now I don't have much of an option," she sighed.

Mira then looked to the Grand Cleric, who was standing at her usual place, talking to Sebastian.

"Wait here," Mira instructed, as she walked towards her.

Anders was about to follow her, but Varric held him back.

"Don't, Blondie. She wants to keep you out of trouble, so let her," Varric urged.

"And if she gets into trouble?" Anders raised an eyebrow.

"She won't. She is the one getting us out of trouble, not the other way around," Varric smiled.

Anders expressed a huff of displeasure, but as he regarded Mira, he realised that Varric was right. Since Mari had become Mira, she was not the one to instigate trouble. People brought their troubles to her, begging her to resolve them. And so willingly, she obliged. He might have cursed all of Kirkwall for relying so much on her, instead of dealing with their own affairs, had she not chosen this moment to hand some papers to the Grand Cleric. Anders knew those papers. They belonged to Ser Alrik. He had wanted to show them to the Grand Cleric himself, but Mira had asked that he not, as she wanted to keep him free of suspicion regarding the templar's murder. Now she was standing at that podium on her own, still protecting him and risking herself in the process. Varric must have known what Anders was thinking, because the dwarf placed a hand on his arm, a gentle touch holding him back. With years at Mari's side, her companions had learned that when Anders was losing himself, an applied distraction was usually enough for him to keep control. A quick reminder that brought him back from the volcanic fire inside him.

Mira's discussion with Elthina left Her Grace pale, and Mira's eyes flared with an annoyance too vague for anyone except Anders to recognize. Mira finally walked away without making to Grand Cleric Elthina, the customary bow of respect. Mira stopped next to them and chafed her face with both hands in frustration.

"She won't listen to me. She won't use any authority to ensure that her subordinates can't abuse their power. She is useless!" Mira hissed, her worry evident.

Anders stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders and he smiled as she leaned into him, before kissing her on the top of her head. She tilted up her face to his, and he took the opportunity to kiss her softly. Varric cleared his throat and Mira giggled.

"Two mages kissing in the Chantry, a great addition to the story of the rebel mage," Varric chuckled in a low voice only they could hear.

"Rebel mages," Mira replied, emphasizing the s.

Anders' heart fluttered and he gave her another kiss.

"All right, let's see what Petrice is trying to do to us. You two will need to tell me what happened between me and her," Mira advised, as they left the chantry.

"Sure thing, Waffles. You see one night..." Varric began.

* * *

Sparks near literally flared from Mira as she walked with such haste towards the Chantry, that Anders, Varric and Aveline could barely keep up. The templar named to them by Petrice had murdered the Qunari delegate and with this, most likely ended the option of resolving the conflict peacefully. Mira had defended the Qunari and ended up killing Varnell and a dozen Chantry fanatics. Telling Viscount Dumar that their small hope had been obliterated, had been taken on by Mira. Anders could see Mira's compassion for the Viscount and how it pained her. It was nothing however, compared to seeing Mira walking among the bodies of the dead Qunari, and on her knees apologizing to them for being too late, and the ignorance of her race. She felt everything so deeply, not only her own burdens, but other people's as well. It made Anders ashamed for confiding in her, knowing that she felt his troubles as keenly as her own. Then again, he did the same for her.

Now her compassion and understanding seemed entombed somewhere deep within her, for as she strode through Hightown, she looked like a Qunari army all on her own. People hastened out of her way as she passed. The black veil whisking her face eventually annoyed her, and without a word she had taken Anders' leather band out of his hair, and used it to tie up her own. Now her boiling fury was plain for all to see. Normally hiding her face from view, she now revealed herself, and people in the street did recognize the Hawke who had terrified them all. Anders would have worried that Mira had lost herself again, if not for knowing the reason she felt this way. Her rage was intertwined with sympathy, compassion and a desire to protect. Someone had stirred the mother bear, and her victim was unaware of the beast she had provoked. Aveline looked at Anders as they walked after Mira.

"We have to make her calm down or I think she might kill someone," Aveline warned with great worry.

"All right, but if she turns on me, you had better come to my rescue," Anders replied, half joking.

Anders took a deep breath and ran up next to Mira. A familiar expression of rage had formed her face into something deadly, but in her eyes were unshed tears.

"Love, you have to calm down," he said firmly.

He had expected a glare of ice cold fury that could freeze his bones so hard, the lightest touch would shatter him, but it never came. Instead, she kept looking in the direction she was heading. Neither came the insults and threats that he was so used to receiving in such a situation.

"I've just had to tell the Arishok that I failed his people and that one of mine was responsible for killing them. And that pathetic excuse for a Grand Cleric could have stopped it if she weren't so afraid of conflict. If this comes to war, Elthina has as much blood on her hands as Petrice – whose blood I intend to drain and smear over the entire chantry," Mira growled in a deadly low tone.

Anders felt a chill in his heart, and reacted without thinking. He stopped in his tracks, grabbed Mira's arm and pulled her to him, then pressed his lips against hers. She made a sound of surprise and Anders half expected to be strongly rebuffed, but instead her arms went around his neck. The forceful kiss became gentle and loving, Mira's tense body relaxing under his touch, as his hands caressed up and down her back. When he pulled away, Mira sighed pleasantly with her eyes closed, then slowly unveiled them to give him a loving look. He levelled a serious gaze at her.

"You are better than this," he said almost pleadingly.

She looked shocked for a moment, as she must have realised what she had said only moments before the kiss.

"Anders, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... what I said... I would never..." she stuttered, her eyes filling with shameful tears.

Anders felt sadness creep over him. Someone else could have said the same thing and it would have been known to be an empty threat. Mira had clearly meant it as such, but the history of Mari clouded the difference between empty and true threats.

"I know... No vengeance," he said softly.

"No vengeance," she repeated with understanding.

They continued to walk towards the Chantry, Mira's fury slightly calmed though her anger was still evident enough that people avoided eye contact with her. She was composed enough however, for Aveline to give Anders a grateful smile.

Inside the Chantry, Aveline approached the Grand Cleric, while Mira's piercing eyes searched for Petrice. When she saw the Mother lighting candles at a nearby altar, she stalked over to her like a fierce tiger, Anders and Varric following. Petrice turned and smiled, clearly being the only one in Kirkwall who did not understand what fear the name of 'Hawke' should inspire. Anders sensed Mira's hands slowly starting to fire with magic. She must not be revealed as an apostate in the Chantry. The templars would come for her and Anders would lose her. Remembering the effect of his previous touch, Anders took her hand and felt the simmering fire in her palm slowly searing his flesh. Still, he held her hand, releasing a small amount of cooling magic, dampening the effect. He could not counter it completely. There were too many templars who could easily detect their magic.

"Serah Hawke. Tonight's incident was unfortunate and a disgrace to the Maker. How fortunate you were his champion in that dark place," Petrice smiled as if satisfied.

Anders felt scorching heat on his hand, but didn't pull back. Biting his lower lip to keep himself from hissing in pain, he squeezed Mira's hand in an attempt to calm her.

"You, and your carefully correct language..." Mira ridiculed.

"I gave you what you wanted. Qunari avenged with human blood at considerable cost. Varnell is more manageable as a martyr, but his loss will be felt. I will take my leave, though we will have this discussion again. The Viscount's incompetence all but guarantees it," Petrice hissed and walked away.

Mira voiced a low sound of frustration, before her magic retreated.

"Sometimes you just know trouble is coming." Anders shook his head, trying to redirect his thoughts from his hand.

Mira looked at him with sadness and kissed his cheek before letting go and walking towards the door. As soon as she turned her back, Anders winced, close to crouching over in pain.

"Might want to put some ice on that, Blondie," Varric chuckled.

"Thank you Varric. That's very helpful," Anders scowled sarcastically.

* * *

That night, Anders was sitting alone at the Estate. Mira had gone out with Isabella, Fenris and Merrill to clear out the streets of criminals. Since her change, Mira had helped the city guard protect the streets some nights. She would capture those she could, killing only in self defence, and turn them over to the guard. Tonight, Anders figured she had needed the distraction, given her frustration with Petrice. He would have gone with her, but his hand – though healed – was still very sore and not fit to wield a staff. He did this reluctantly, as he knew the demands of Kirkwall were getting to her, but he had a feeling something else was bothering her as well. Something she was keeping to herself. Her rage that day had proven it. He knew she could control it, but there were only a limited number of pressures that a person could endure. She also seemed to have become more agitated since they began their relationship, the subject of lovemaking creating a rift that was slow to close.

Mira had been spending a lot of time with Isabella, and though Anders knew that Mira loved him, he couldn't help but be jealous. His mind, creating images of them together in the way he knew Mari had been with her, drove him insane. He had even been so overtaken by jealousy that he had barged in on them in Isabella's room, expecting to find something compromising, since they had been in there for hours. Instead he found Mira sitting in a chair, her knees pressed in under her chin and embracing herself, while paths of tears streaked her face. Isabella had faced him with a scowl, before taking him outside and leaving Mira alone. She informed him that he needed to be patient, and made an inappropriate comment of providing him relief instead. Anders had just groaned, but he had also been ashamed. Giving her time was becoming increasingly difficult as she was always near him and taunting him with her sweetness. So nights like this, he let himself be consumed by longing on her side of the bed, sighing and gasping her name, while inhaling her scent. Trying to burn the infection of her out of his system, only to become even further infected. He fell asleep on his own side of the bed, hoping she would be home soon for him to embrace, so he could deceive his mind and body into believing that his ache had been sated.

"MAGE!"

Anders sat up in bed as Fenris' voice boomed and the door to the bedroom was flung open. Grateful that he had fallen asleep dressed in his pants, Anders jumped from the bed. He was about to growl something at Fenris, then saw that he was carrying Hawke, who was gasping in pain. Anders' blood ran cold as he frantically scanned the two arrows in her arm and shoulder, and lacerations along her abdomen and thigh.

"What happened?" Anders asked, his voice trembling with fear.

"We were ambushed. You can help her, can't you Anders?" Merrill asked in a choked voice.

Fenris placed Mira on the bed and Anders was quickly at her side. He glanced at Fenris, who nodded his understanding and left the room. Without reserve this time, Anders began to help her undress.

"It's all right," Mira said softly.

"No, but it will be. I won't let you die," Anders vowed, as Isabella handed him a dagger.

"I know," Mira smiled, as he began cutting the fabric of her robes to gain access to the arrows.

"Merrill, I need you to go down and sterilize a knife and a pair of scissors and get me some elfroot potions. Isabella, I need you to boil some water and bring me some disinfectant," Anders instructed.

The women nodded and ran out the door. Anders took the dagger and cut off the shafts of the arrows, letting only the arrow heads remain. Mira winced and gave a short cry of pain as he did so.

"I know, I'm so sorry, love," he apologized.

He removed her boots, pulled off her torn robe and then moved to her trousers. His heart stopped as he saw they were soaked with blood from a cut on the inside of her thigh. Most likely, a major artery was opened, and he couldn't wait for the disinfectant. He pulled off her trousers, and Mira was too overwhelmed by her pain to notice she was almost naked before him. Neither did she make any sounds of fear when he placed his hand on the inside of her thigh, but right then he would gladly hear those over her painful moans. Purging it as best he could, he healed the wound. If some infection entered her body he would have to deal with it later. The risk of her bleeding to death took priority. When Merrill and Isabella returned, he took the scissors and knife in hand. He sat down next to Mira on the bed and cursed himself for not having his medical equipment at home. He would need another collection to keep at the house.

"This will hurt. I'm sorry sweetheart," he apologized, lowering the small scissors to the wound, preparing to grab the arrow head.

"I trust you," she whispered.

When the scissors entered the wound and he captured the arrow head, Mira's hand clutched his inner thigh, digging in her nails as she bit her lip bloody to keep from screaming. Anders hissed, part in pain and part with the unseemly pleasure of her touching him. Focusing on his task, he managed to extract both arrow heads and heal the piercings. Her pain growing less, she gave him a soft smile and Anders prepared hesitantly for his next task, a cut on her abdomen along her slightly torn underwear. His look at her to ask her permission, earned him a smile in reply. Confidently he placed his hand over it, and cursed in the back of his mind that the first time he ever touched the soft skin on her stomach should be at such a moment. He felt her slight trembling, but it calmed as his warm healing magic soothed her and mended the skin. When healing was complete, he held his hand in place and turned to look at her. Her eyes were so intense, but beneath the immediate uncertainty was both love and gratitude. Anders let his hand caress her stomach without approaching her intimate area until her trembling stopped. When she smiled at him softly, he knew she had relaxed and he leaned forward to kiss her, tasting blood and not caring.

"We'll better leave, Kitten. See you tomorrow, Hawke," Isabella chuckled and closed the door behind her.

Anders chuckled as well, and even more when Mira gave a nervous giggle and blushed. He looked down at her body, and the remains of her blood still smeared on her skin. Technically she was well enough to remove it on her own, but Anders couldn't resist.

_"Why are you intent on tormenting yourself?"_ Justice asked with disapproval.

Ignoring the spirit, Anders wrung out a washcloth he had soaked in warm water, before turning to Mira. Beginning the bath at her throat and along to her shoulder wounded by the arrow, he washed away the blood. Seeming unsure at first, Mira closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. She eventually gave a low sigh of pleasure at the touch of the warmed cloth. His hand touched her lips and healed her self-inflicted bite, then wiped the blood. The pleasantly soft and warm cloth moved by his hand, travelled slowly down her throat, between the valley of her breasts and down to her stomach, where it resumed its task. Mira was actually smiling and appeared serene as he added a little pressure. He had never seen her so relaxed, and especially not when he had touched her before now. Exhausted by the fight and her mind unsettled by her encounter with Petrice, she was now made calm by the absence of pain, the comfort of his healing and the warmth of the bathing. Taking his time, Anders relished the feel of her soft skin. Moving the cloth to her inner thigh, he leaned forward to softly kiss her stomach. His heart burst when she sighed with pleasure. Eagerly, but still cautious, Anders kissed his way up her body and tossed the cloth aside, his hands moving up her sides with care. Only when he arrived at her lips did he realise she was asleep. Anders had to chuckle with disbelief and frustration. He kissed her cheek softly and smiled when she whispered his name in her sleep. He pulled the covers over her and slipped into bed next to her, unintentionally stirring her slightly awake. She turned on her side, taking his arm and pulling him closer. Now spooning her, he took in her scent and smiled as she mumbled something incoherent. "Progress," Anders reminded himself before drifting off as well.

* * *

_Author's note: I just wanted to thank you again for the many reviews. Over a hundred! I'm practically dancing from joy:P Thanks to Flint and Feather for her patience with me and to all my readers for your encouraging feedback:) Happy valentines day.  
_


	19. Chapter 19 Emancipation

**Emancipation**

He was sitting alone in the dark again. Water dribbled slowly down the stone walls, since the templars had chosen not to bother to repair the dungeon to make it even remotely bearable. But that was the point, wasn't it? He could vaguely hear the rain outside pouring from the heavens, and the thunder echoing through the darkness of the dismal cellars. Only small flashes of light penetrated cracks at the top of the wall. And he counted the seconds between those sparks of light and the following roar of the skies. He wasn't aware how long he had been in solitary confinement. Only by the grace of those wall cracks did he know if it was day or night. His first few periods of solitary confinement had been spent in his own private little room, but this time they were going to make an example of him. So he was imprisoned in the dungeon, not knowing how long it was intended to keep him there. He figured his previous length of stay being locked away there, at three months, and how long ago that was, had vanished from memory. Another flash of light was followed by the sound screeching from the clouds, like an old woman screaming her fury. The slowly rising water wet his feet. Would they leave him to drown down here should the water continue to fill the small cell? Probably. He lifted his feet up into the cot, removing his wet, dirty socks, pulling the tattered blanket around him. The blanket was so worn that it was no more an empty presence in terms of providing him warmth. He tried to calm his breathing as he sensed the many phobias he had developed over the years overwhelming him, claustrophobia being his greatest terror. He had never been like this before the tower. His breath hitched, strangling in his throat. Another flash, another boom, and he all but jumped in his bed, curling himself up in a tight ball, rocking back and forth, holding onto what little was left of him. It did nothing to offer distraction from the fact that he was trapped in a small room with water rising. A room that with each passing moment seemed to be shrinking. The walls were closing in.

Then he heard a laugh. The cold sinister shriek of a woman who should not be there, but now at the bars of his cell she suddenly appeared, her piercing blue eyes making his chill go frozen solid. Her wicked smile mocked him, more insultingly demeaning than her tongue ever could. Anger, then rage replaced fear and he charged towards the bars. Catching her by surprise, he grabbed her short unevenly cut hair and kissed her forcibly through the bars. She growled her fury as she bit hard on his lower lip. He answered with a sound of pain, but did not relent until his blood filled his mouth, nearly choking him. Using the power of his blood, she slammed him against the wall, her magic binding him to it. He could feel the rain trickling down the walls, soaking into his shirt and sending chills and shivers through his being, while water was slowly rising around his ankles. The wall torches ignited with red flames, giving off unnatural light. She looked at him with a vicious repulsed scowl.

"Abomination, you couldn't even prevent this. You are pathetic. Claiming you want power to free your mages, but never willing to strive for it. Weak!" she taunted with hatred.

His blood boiling, he gave out a feral cry of threats to take her life, screamed in a voice that belonged to both Anders and Justice. But this simply amused her. She revelled in making him feel as helpless and furious as she once had. A perverse desire to see just how far she could push the beast before nothing was left but its primal instinct. He would not give in to her. He would rather be weak than give in to her desire. Justice' flame retreated.

"Release me. Please Mari," he pleaded in a broken voice.

The look she gave him was one of confusion and disappointment. Then anger flared in her cold eyes once more.

"Oh, I will release you, but it will have to wait, my Abomination. Do you know how they used to train Mabari to utterly hate their foes? They would keep them locked in pitch black cells and barbarians would enter and beat them to within an inch of their lives. When the dogs then finally saw daylight, the persons opening their cells would be clad in the markings of their enemy tribe, and the dogs would slaughter them. Tell me, Abomination, how long will I have to taunt you before all you see in every mage will be me?" she smirked with satisfaction.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, as though trying to convince himself he didn't follow those thoughts.

"What will it take before you no longer recognize friend from foe? You will turn on the very people you have sworn to protect," her sinister expression growing wider and more malicious.

"That will never happen!" Anders and Justice growled in unison.

"Oh, but it already has," she cooed.

Before them, Ella, the girl from the Gallows, was lying on the floor at his feet, begging for her life. A plea that would have fallen on deaf ears had it not been for Mira. At the thought of her, he saw Ella change into Mira, her body lying in the rising water, blood trickling from her mouth, her deep green-blue eyes wide and devoid of life, her neck snapped and twisted at a grotesque angle.

"No, Maker! Please, no!" Anders cried, his tears adding to the still rising water.

Mari gave a cold laugh as she threw back her head with satisfaction, her shrieking laughter echoing the thunder outside. She looked at him again, her dark chuckle sounding through the room.

"Don't look so grim. I can save her, you know. I can do what you cannot," she cooed like a demon whispering her offer.

He looked back, full knowing that the hope in his eyes betrayed the resentment he meant to express. He gave a wordless snarl, waiting for the Queen to make her offer. Much to his surprise, it never came. Instead Mari slit her wrist, using her own blood to raise her mirror image from the dead, and Mira healed. Another flash of light travelled through the cracks. The red magic gently lifted Mira from the floor, placing her on her feet. Her long black hair was restored to its beauty, her cheeks once again rosy, her pupils dilating and full of life. The blood splatter, too, was gone from her naked body, and then she looked at him with eyes that wordlessly whispered her undying love for him. Something he knew he didn't deserve. He wanted to embrace her, but Mari's magic still held him confined. A cautious whisper sounded in the back of his mind.

_"Be careful. She does not give, she only takes. Things are not as they seem,"_ the whisper warned, the voice not his own, nor Justice'. Malcolm's voice. A voice he had heard only in a dream. A rush of fear gripped him and his relief at seeing his love alive, vanished.

"Run, love!" he cried to Mira.

Mari laughed with arrogant confidence. Steel boots sounded, splashing through water, and a templar emerged beside. Justice raged inside him as Roland appeared next to Mari. Then dread took its place. Locked in the cell with him, Mira had nowhere to escape. So he found her running to him, wrapping herself around him as if to protect him and seek comfort at the same time. He kissed her hair, her scent almost calming him, until he heard the door of steel bars open. Water was still rising. Against his better judgement, he heard himself begging as Roland dragged Mira from him.

"No, please don't hurt her! I'm begging you!" he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

A sinister laugh reminded him of his mistake. Mira tried to fight Roland's grasp, but it was no use. Anders could himself feel the blow as Roland struck Mira with smite, and in unison with the thunder, they both cried out. Mari raised her hands, and with the next flash of lightning a magical barrier was formed around Anders. All the icy water was poured into it, reaching up to his chest. He shivered uncontrollably, the cold burn making him cry out again. Outside the cell, Roland pressed Mira against the bars, her head grinding against the iron, and he crushed her shoulders there with such force that Anders was certain they had both dislocated. As Roland held Mira, Mari reached for the templar's skirt, pulling it off him. Anders roared, knowing what they intended. Roland's hand dug into Mira's hair and yanked her head back, and she cried with the lightning, as he penetrated her. Mari laughed as she looked at Anders, who barely noticed the water had risen to his neck. With that cold satisfaction in her eyes, the Queen of Horrors took her metal glove and raked it across Mira's tender flesh. Another cry, another echo of thunder, and blood spilled from her. Mari licked her gauntlet's fingertips, purring blissfully at the taste of the blood. Then Anders realised he could taste it as well, as the water now rising to his mouth had been turned into blood. Tears streamed from Mira's eyes, and Anders felt himself crying as well, his warm tears streaking paths down his chilled face.

"Aaaaww, do you want me to make it stop?" Mari cooed mockingly.

"Yes," he rasped.

"You want me to make her pain go away?" she pouted snidely.

"Yes," he uttered, his breath trembling.

"As you wish," she smiled.

_"NO!"_ Malcolm's voice screamed in Anders' mind.

Mari brought forth the brand of tranquillity, and as Roland continued to rape Mira, she cried out with added agony as Mari pressed the brand to her forehead. Anders could only gurgle his anguish and despair, as he drowned in the bloody water.

* * *

Anders sat up, to the sound of screams all around him. It took him a few moments to realise the screams were his own. A flash of light filled the room, the lightning sounding like a whip. His heart expanded in his chest painfully, and his face was so marked with paths of salt tears, he looked like he had been crying for hours.

"Anders." The sweet voice made him gasp with joy.

He turned to see Mira sitting up next to him, her eyes filled with love and worry. Without thinking, he pulled her to him and buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her scent of vanilla as his breath trembled with sobs. She was there with him, unharmed and safe. Her arms were around him and he felt her lips at the side of his head, soothing him.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

He saw the confusion in her eyes when he pulled away, but he leaned in again to claim her lips. Maker forgive him, but he needed her and he needed to know she was alive and well. He pushed her down onto the mattress, kissing her passionately, his hands exploring. He was close to breaking his promise of waiting for her, but at this moment, he needed her so much. To his surprise, there was no trembling fear, no sound of panic, but gentle hands were placed on his, calming his urgency and the bruising kisses were answered with tenderness. Cooling his desperation, Anders regained himself and rolled off her to his side, being faithful to his vow. The blood in his veins betrayed him, and pressed so closely against her, he knew she could feel it. Her blush gave her away, letting him know for certain that she knew. Then a sadness clouded her eyes, and she looked at him as if meaning to ask his forgiveness. Not allowing her to utter the words, he silenced her with the heat of his kiss. She was with him, she loved him and that was enough.

* * *

Anders was walking through Hightown at a fast stride, towards an estate that he tried to avoid as much as he did the Deep Roads, but tonight he needed to go there. He was fuming with rage, his quick angry breaths forming mists in the chilly night air. Arriving at the door, he pounded on it with force, and a blue flash of light emanated when the door was opened. Fenris' hand was a mere inch from his chest, but Anders held his ground, staring down the elf so intently, it threatened to set him ablaze.

"Mage," Fenris said simply, though his surprise was evident.

"We need to talk," Anders raised.

Fenris looked taken aback, but he slowly opened the door and closed it after Anders had entered.

"What do you want?" Fenris asked calmly, looking into the fire and behaving as if ignoring Anders' presence.

"Did you know Mira was almost killed tonight?" Anders accused.

"Then why are you here talking to me?" Fenris sneered, his green eyes piercing Anders briefly.

Those eyes held accusation and worry all at once.

"I have just spent two hours healing her, and Aveline is with her now. Don't you want to know why she almost died?" Anders snarled.

Fenris responded merely with a glare.

"Because of you!" Anders growled.

"Me? I wasn't even there!" Fenris snapped.

"She almost died because of that stupid vow she made to you! Three times now, she has almost died, because she refuses to use magic violently, even against those who would hurt her. All because of the senseless promise she made to **you**!" Anders exploded with anger.

They had been hunting down some rogue templars for the underground that night. Anders normally refused to join since the event in the Gallows, but that night Aveline and Varric had accompanied them. These were templars, who instead of turning the mages over to the circles, went from apostate to apostate, exploiting them in every imaginable fashion, as trade for their freedom. Aveline had discovered this and had confronted the Grand Cleric, but it had been to no effect. So after searching her conscience, Aveline decided that she could not let this continue. Justice should be applied to everyone, even the templars who thought themselves above the law.

During the fight, a templar had charged Mira. Anders had seen it and her reaction to the attack had sent a chill through him. She was not afraid to use her magic, but she chose not to. She could have prevented the templar from piercing her with his sword, but she didn't. Casting one spell would have protected her. She could have ended that man's life so instantly, but she refused to do it. The next few minutes Anders hardly recalled, as Justice' rage empowered by his fear had destroyed the templars with excessive bloodshed. Saving Mira after had been near impossible, but she had finally come through. Anders had almost lost her, and his terror was still coursing in his blood, sending surges of agony through every cell and membrane of his body. He looked at Fenris, certain that his angry eyes betrayed the heartache that pounded inside him.

"I am not responsible for the promises she makes or whether she keeps them," Fenris replied coldly, continuing to look into the fire, concealing any signs of remorse.

"But she made that promise to **you**. **You** can release her from it," Anders argued.

"I won't," Fenris scowled, his tone abrasive.

"You would rather have that she got herself killed?!" Anders demanded in disbelief.

"You have seen the anger that is inside her. We don't know if this condition of hers will last, but as long as she keeps that promise, we know. It is the only guarantee we have," Fenris hissed back.

His reasoning was sound, but the torment of fear in Anders was beyond any reasoning.

"I said, release her from her vow!" Anders howled.

Fenris jumped to his feet, glaring at Anders with uncontained fury.

"Do not make demands of me, mage! Get out of my house before I tear you apart!" Fenris growled.

Anders, knowing that he could easily lose himself and possibly even kill his ally, be it a rival one, turned and walked away. He paused at the door and lowered his head, tears flowing freely.

"I can't bear for her to die," he confessed, looking away from Fenris.

"Then you won't allow it," Fenris replied calmly.

Anders took a deep breath and left the estate, making his way home to the bedside of his broken love.

* * *

Anders could hardly believe it, but it was with part amusement and part astonishment, that he found himself at the Hanged Man that night, he and Mira playing matchmaker for Aveline. Finding the balance between being encouraging and not pushing the stubborn warrior was a task Mira seemed to be handling with ease. Anders had no such patience after his years of enforced self-control, and guarding himself from something that seemed inevitable.

Anders sat at the bar with Isabella, while Mira spoke with Donnic, the guard Aveline had taken a fancy to. Aveline, the fearless warrior, was hiding in a corner, every so often taking steps towards their table, only to shake her head and walk away again. Finally, Donnic left and Mira gave Aveline a little smile as they both made the way to the bar. Mira kissed Anders upon her arrival, with a flare of amusement in her eyes. Before he could ask however, Aveline approached.

"I... I couldn't do it. What did he say?" Aveline asked, looking discouraged, an unfamiliar position for the normally confident warrior.

"He thinks **I'm** interested in him," Mira replied, looking at Anders briefly.

Her smile only brightened when Anders put his arms around Mira's waist, possessively pulling her closer. He knew his jealousy was ridiculous, but it was something he held onto because it confirmed that she was his. Without the act of lovemaking, they could as easily be considered friends, who just happened to be sharing the same bed at night. This jealousy was one thing that served to remind him that they were far more than that. The fact that she seemed to love his obsessive, protective nature only encouraged him, and he found himself faking his jealousy even more, merely to see her enjoy it. Perhaps it was also a confirmation for her, to know that even as she felt unable - and he knew she felt that way - she was desirable to him. Aveline's discouraged sigh brought him to the present.

"I'm an idiot," Aveline sighed.

"No you're not," Mira smiled kindly.

"Aawww, having man troubles, man chin?" Isabella mocked teasingly.

"Shut up, whore!" Aveline hissed.

"Aveline, you are usually so confident. What is the matter?" Mira sweetly asked.

"I know, but I freeze up all right! The only place I'm not a mess is on patrol, and killing highwaymen doesn't provide much opportunity for banter," Aveline conceded.

"More excuses," Anders accused.

"I will not risk..." Aveline began to reply.

"Then you will have nothing," Anders stated firmly.

He had fought his own heart for so long, knowing all too well the agony it caused. He had had good reasons for keeping his distance from Mira, but whatever challenges Aveline might face, they could not be compared to his. Seeing a friend waste something out of fear, brought years of his own suffering forth, and he did not wish for her to be unhappy and alone. Aveline and he did not always agree, but a common goal of keeping people safe, be it mage, elves or human, had formed an alliance between them... a friendship. He noticed Mira looking at him for a moment, her expression one he had difficulty deciphering, as it was so brief.

"Arrange the patrol, and I'll clear the way. Then you can find things to talk about," Mira suggested sweetly, taking Aveline's arm and steering her towards the door.

Isabella looked at Anders as if studying him.

"What?" he asked.

"She still hasn't given in, has she?" Isabella questioned, though it sounded more like a statement.

The tone of her voice made Anders a little wistful. It was clear from this one statement alone that Isabella had expected Mira to have moved on by now. Insecurity had taken the place of frustration weeks ago, and Anders worried that **he** might not be what she desired. Not being able to express fully how much he loved her was... painful. He did not have time to respond before Mira was again standing next to them, shaking her head and smiling.

"It's cute," Mira giggled.

"It's boring and ridiculous," Isabella said with slight annoyance.

"She would do much better to just get the fellow alone in a room," Anders chuckled.

Again that brief unreadable expression crossed Mira's face, but he had no chance to ask her about it that night.

* * *

Anders was sitting in the library doing his research. Mira had gone to the Wounded Coast to help Aveline 'court' Donnic that morning and hadn't yet returned, despite it being late. Anders would have gone with them, but he had to attend to his clinic. He felt sure they hadn't encountered anything they couldn't handle, but the late hour did worry him. Justice reminded him that Mira was probably at the Hanged Man with Isabella, and Anders agreed that scenario was the most likely. He would have heard by now if anything was wrong.

Another half an hour passed, then he heard the front door open, accompanied by a giggle as something was knocked over. Anders walked out into the entry hall and saw Mira lying on the floor giggling, her cheeks flushed, and obviously intoxicated. Next to her was Isabella, helping her with her boots.

"Anders!" Mira said happily, getting to her feet somewhat awkwardly before kissing him deeply.

She tasted of the wine that had brought about this cheerful mood. Anders was about to pull away from Mira, but she made a sound of objection and held him close. Anders chuckled against her lips and looked at Isabella, who laughed and winked at them as she left the estate. Mira whined out loud when he broke the kiss, but when he lifted her into his arms, she began kissing his neck. He felt his knees go nearly weak at the sensation, as her kisses were never given beyond his face, or an occasional one on his chest when she was cuddled against him. Thankful that the servants had all gone to bed, Anders carried Mira upstairs to prevent her from disturbing the house, her current state leaving her unable to walk straight.

Inside the room, he placed her on the bed, then knelt in front of her to unlace her boots. She threw herself back on the bed and was giggling happily. He had never seen her drunk before, but she was actually quite adorable. With her boots removed, she sat up suddenly and looked at him with a depth of desire in her eyes. The air fled from his lungs. He had dreamed of her looking at him that way, but never dared to hope it would happen. She grabbed his face and pulled him close for a kiss, and as their tongues entwined, a groan was forced past his lips and greedily, his hands grabbed her waist. Passion reacting, Justice' sense was pushed back to nothing but a faint whisper of incoherent words. Anders did not hear the warnings of how wrong it was to take advantage of her in such a state. Anders stood up and pulled her with him, surprised when she was the first to begin removing his clothes. Even though his head was spinning with desire, he remained aware enough to know that she would have to lead each step. He would not be the one to push her. His pouldrons dropped to the floor and he found himself impatient. He could no longer bear the confinement of his clothes, and he opened the buckles of his tunic, as she unfastened his belt, and all the while her lips were sealed against his. His tunic had barely gone before Mira eagerly pulled his shirt over his head. He shivered when her hands explored his chest, caressing the lines that defined his muscles. Another giggle sounded from her, when she suddenly pushed him down onto the bed. His eyes widened as he watched her slowly, shyly, undressing before him. From the bed, he could see her trembling, but was it with fear or anticipation? He didn't yet know. He only felt that trembling mirrored within him, his body crying out for her as if dying. As she stood only in her small clothes now, he studied her body - the pale expanse of her skin, the faint scars that were reminders of the risks she took for all of them, the rounded curves of her hips and breasts. When Mari had become Mira, a corpse-like body had been transformed into that of a woman. Time had changed her, and now she was nothing short of beautiful. He saw her shyness, as she tried to hide it beneath her black veil.

"I love you," he uttered with such emotion, that he was close to tears.

She looked at him as she pushed her hair behind her ears, and smiled at him affectionately.

"I love you, too," she returned.

She removed his boots, and then her hands travelled slowly up his legs. Lying still was near impossible, but he must. He had to let all of this come from her. Her slow pace seemed agonizing as her fingertips grazed along the inside of his thighs. Finally, when they found their way to the laces of his trousers, he sighed with relief as they were undone. He shivered when she climbed onto the bed and straddled him. He felt how she trembled, and she closed her eyes tight. He wanted to ravish her body with his hands, but he could not do it. Instead, they reached to her cheeks, and he caressed her softly.

"We don't have to," he said sweetly, but his body betrayed him as it involuntarily pressed against her thigh above him.

She smiled at him then, unquiet with shivering. She kissed him deeply and passionately, taking his wrists and placing them above his head. He knew she needed to be in full control of this and despite his eagerness and suppressed longing, he granted it to her. Her lips brushed along his jawline and further down his throat, before following the line that defined his torso and stomach. He gasped as her soft tongue trailed along his skin, sending his blood boiling. His being quivered. A hymn of moans escaped him as her loving hands embraced his body's ache, and he nearly whimpered as her kisses followed as well. He was not quite certain that this was real, but at the moment he didn't care. Under her touch so sensuously attentive, his heart boomed within his chest, pulsating in unison with the building pressure below. He wanted to pull her to him and kiss her deeply, while consumed with his conflicting desire to dig his hands into her black veil, a silent plea for her to go on, and on. Fearing his reactions, Anders grabbed the headboard with both hands, his nails digging into it while his body was captive to profound delight. He wanted to scream her name in ecstasy, be damned if even the Knight-Commander knew that he was with Mira and that he loved her. It was a strange possessiveness to have everyone know that she was his. He wanted to let them know that he loved her and despite the world trying to make him feel unworthy of love, someone had granted it to him. But he feared that should he cry out for her, she would shy away and he would frighten the divine creature providing him unholy pleasure. So instead he sighed her name as a prayer. And maybe it was. A prayer for her never to stop loving him, never let the world convince him that he could not be loved. A prayer for their souls to be intertwined in a way that could never break them a part. When his heart erupted with love for her, so did all of his body and now he was helpless to hold back from calling her name, with his deep desire that she not release him, yet unable to bear it any longer. His hands held tight to the headboard, and as he threw back his head and his back arched with surrender, his dreams of her were made complete.

Lost in an exhausted haze of bliss and oblivion, he didn't realise she had moved until she pressed her lips sweetly to his. His arms wrapped around her, but he felt that until his strength returned, he could not hold her as close as he wanted. All the better, since he might have crushed her had he tried. When she crept up and touched her forehead to his, he gave a blissful sigh.

"I love you," he whispered happily.

"And I, you," she whispered back.

Her eyes opened, and he smiled at the desire still within them. Feeling more confident, he flipped her to her back and was rewarded with a giggle. Above her, his hands now began exploring the curves of her body, and he decided to remove the effects of the alcohol. She deserved to feel it as intensely as it could be, not corrupted through the vague fog of her intoxication. His hands glowed with soothing healing and travelled along her, while he followed with kisses. Suddenly, a chill embraced his heart and he became overwhelmed with guilt and self disgust. In a panic, he cast a sleep-spell on her, kissing her softly until she fell asleep. He rolled off her, feeling sick to his stomach, only to find himself instead filled with anger and rage. He was about to leave the bed, when Justice objected. It would not be just to leave her. Anders turned and brought the covers over them both, before pulling her close, unable not to smile as she muttered his name cuddling against his chest. He kissed her hair while holding her close to his sated body, consumed with overwhelming guilt.

"Forgive me, love," he whispered.

* * *

The next morning, Anders walked into the Hanged Man and directly to Isabella's room. Without knocking, he broke the door open, and a young man jumped from Isabella's bed, gathering his clothes and storming out. Isabella sat up in her bed, at first looking upset, then glowed with amusement when she saw Anders.

"Anders! I wasn't expecting you here today," she smiled.

"I doubt that," Anders said coldly.

"Come on, you can't look at me like that. How was last night?" she asked coyly.

"You drugged her!" Anders roared, and slammed the door shut.

* * *

_Author's note: I'm sorry I haven't updated as usual or replied to peoples reviews. My life has been a little messed up the past week. They are appreciated and I hope you like this chapter. For those who are also reading "Noble Spirit" I am planning an update soon, but life being what it is chapters for this story comes more easily._

_Thanks to Flint and Feather for correcting my work._


	20. Chapter 20 Blame

**Blame**

"You drugged her!" The accusation made the room quake, the frail glass in the windows above threatening to shatter. Dust fell from the beams above, and the only thing that remained unaffected was Isabella. The pirate Queen was not moved by the storms of the sea or the bellowing of an abomination, because – as she herself once argued – she was more likely to be shanked in a bar than eaten by an abomination. Currently there was a good chance that she would be shanked in a bar **by** an abomination - though Anders was more likely to incinerate her with fire than use a knife. Still, Isabella remained calm, adding annoyance to the mage's anger. He felt that she had, with whatever interfering mischief, violated both him and more so, Mira. She was still at home asleep. He hadn't had the heart to wake her and was ashamed to admit that he hadn't dared to. The guilt of what he had done, or rather what he had failed to stop, tormented him.

"I didn't drug her… exactly," Isabella smiled sheepishly.

"Not exactly?! What in the void is that supposed to mean? And wipe that smug grin off your face," Anders hissed, keeping his voice down only so the rest of the Hanged Man wouldn't hear their business – or Maker forbid, Varric! If he found out, there was a chance he would have an elaborate and exaggerated tale floating through Kirkwall soon enough. Isabella sighed and got dressed, neither she nor Anders caring that she was naked.

"Look, she came in here after we helped Aveline, and then she began drinking. After the first bottle of wine, I asked her why and she muttered something about trying to get the courage to please you. So I thought it might help with her nervousness if I gave her something that would make her feel excited too," Isabella smiled, almost as if a little proud of herself.

Anders, on the other hand, was shocked as if he had been hit with a bucket of cold ice water. Of course Mira would have felt some kind of pressure regarding the issue, how could she not? He thought he had been patient and given her the space she needed, but clearly he had not done as well as he thought. There was also a little relief somewhere in his heart, which Justice found inappropriate. She had wanted what happened the night before, even if she had to take courage from the alcohol. She had begun pushing herself, but he had hoped that it would have come to her more naturally. Anders knew Isabella's intent had been well meant, but he couldn't help but suspect that it had affected Mira somehow. She should have found the courage to do it on her own and through her own desires, not from a euphoria created by an outside source.

He felt some of his anger slowly dissipate, but would not let Isabella know this. Despite her intentions, Isabella had done wrong and she had abused Mira's trust. Not to mention Anders had no idea how this would affect his and Mira's relationship in the future. He also knew that he should get back. She shouldn't wake without his comfort, after she had done what was so difficult for her in their bed, the night before. Yet facing her seemed unconscionable, but to never be near her again was impossible. He was in part responsible for this and he loved her too much to leave the matter unresolved.

"Do you have any idea of what you might have done?" Anders sighed, his voice heavy with regret.

"I helped her by giving her the push she needed and it wasn't like she didn't want to. What did happen anyway? Justice against you having a little fun?" Isabella goaded.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," Anders sneered back.

"Stick in the mud! Shouldn't you be back in your bed? I'm sure the effect hasn't worn off yet. I can always get you more if you like," Isabella chuckled with a suggestive smirk.

"I think both of us have had plenty of your 'help'. Don't ever do it again," Anders reproached, walking out the door.

* * *

Anders' guilt flowed as freely as the blood in his veins as he entered the mansion, making him feel sick and almost lightheaded. What was he supposed to say to her? Would she even want him to mention it? Not for the first time, he was angry for all that had happened to her, that he could not somehow have sheltered her from it.

His thoughts drifted to Malcolm, and he found himself feeling both sorry for him and exceedingly angry. If ever he should have a daughter, Anders vowed that he would never neglect her so. He would protect her with everything in him, just as he would her mother. Anders paused, as an image of a little girl with ebony black hair and his golden eyes appeared in his mind. Having a family as an apostate was difficult –near impossible. Having one while being host to a spirit of Justice, even more so. And still, the thought made him smile, and for just a fraction of second he forgot his troubles. He took a deep breath, as if to raise his courage as he entered the mansion and slowly ascended the stairs.

Nearing the top, he noticed the open door of Leandra's bedroom. He carefully approached the doorway and saw Mira sitting on the floor, going through a chest containing the few heirlooms her family had left. She studied them closely as if trying to remember them. He had seen her do this before with other objects. His heart fluttered as he watched her and he was sorry that Leandra had never known who her daughter truly was. That she had known only the victim of the disease instead of the gentle and loving woman he knew Mira to be. It was then he discovered her eyes were filled with tears, and in that instant she noticed him and got to her feet, looking at him shyly, seeming a little embarrassed and slightly frightened. Knowing her well by now, he realised she needed reassurance and quickly he stepped forward with a bright smile and kissed her deeply. With her sigh against his lips, her body instantly relaxed and she leaned into him. When she pulled away, she laid her head on his chest.

"So... ehm... did you..." she began, blushing too fiercely to finish her question.

"It was wonderful, but I would like to return the favour," he purred in a low voice.

This drew an uncertain sigh from her.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted in a subdued voice.

"Why?" he asked softly, without judgement.

Mira pulled away with another heavy breath and looked toward the bed. It was Anders' turn to sigh when he saw Mari's journal placed there. He had really hoped he could persuade her not to look into her past. Perhaps it was because there was so much in his own that he wished to forget, that he didn't want her to remember, to blame herself more than she already did.

"She liked it, you know... sex. She used it to control people or to torment them. She described each conquest in details that are almost disgusting, as if they were victories, like taking a life. She perverted what should be beautiful, and twisted it into something that gives me nightmares. Oh, Anders, I don't want to be like her. I'm so afraid that I'm going to weaken and lose my grip. What if this is the thing that could make me lose myself again?" she despaired, her voice heavy with regret.

"Oh, love," he uttered in reply and walked up behind her to hold her close.

He kissed her cheek softly and squeezed her a little.

"We'll go slow. When you can't handle it, we'll stop," he promised, touching a kiss to her ear.

"Thank you," she smiled a little sadly, and leaned into him.

* * *

Anders and Mira walked through the dark of Hightown, with Mongrel following right behind them. The stars were shining bright and the moon cast down a soft glow on the lovers. On any other night, this would have spoken romance, but this night was tainted with blood. The Viscount's son had been killed as an example to others who wished to join the Qun - by Mother Petrice in the heart of the Chantry. Zealots driven by their fanatic faith had attacked them, and once again the most holy place in Kirkwall was also the most bloody. Anders was half-convinced that the Chantry in Kirkwall had washed away all its holiness with the blood of innocents, criminals, demons and templars. How could they still believe so fervently in a God that had long since abandoned them? What more proof did they want, when demons and so much bloodshed were not only allowed, but instigated within their own walls? But Grand Cleric Elthina had chosen to remain blind to this. "I will step in when the time is right," Her Grace had vowed, but shouldn't that have come before Seamus Dumar was slaughtered by a Mother of the Chantry? One whom Elthina herself had promoted? Then again, he shouldn't have expected any different. Meredith had been appointed by Elthina after all, and it was a well known secret that the power was no longer in Elthina's hands, but in Meredith's. The tranquil solution had made that perfectly clear.

So due to Her Grace's incompetence, the city leader had lost his only heir, at a time when he should have been strong and able to stand up to the Qunari. The man had been broken and there was no way these fragments of the former leader could muster the strength to do what was needed... perhaps he no longer even wished to.

Mira had been furious at first, but now seemed to be struck with grief. She always felt so strongly for those she could not save. She mourned all, and took everything to heart. Approaching the door to the estate, they said goodnight to Merrill and Varric. Anders looked at Mira who gave him a tired smile as he turned the key in the door.

"I think some sleep will do us good," he smiled softly, and a chuckle escaped him as she yawned in reply.

"Indeed," she muttered.

He smiled at her again. She didn't know, but whenever they had embarked upon a mission that was particularly trying for her, he would cast the tiniest bit of sleeping magic on her. He would do so slowly, so she would feel the sleep coming upon her naturally. It had saved her many restless nights and her mental health had improved as a result. Not even past their door however, they could hear Aveline and Isabella arguing inside. Mira gave him a tired and defeated look, though with a hint of amusement hiding beneath it. When Aveline gave a patronizing scoff, Mira entered the living room with hurried steps.

"Get off your high horse! I have problems too!" Isabella hissed.

"Oh, what drink should I order, and who is the father?" Aveline snorted.

"What's going on here?" Mira demanded, catching sight of Isabella's hand raised to slap Aveline.

Anders walked up behind Mira and softly stroked her lower back.

"I'll get Mongrel cleaned up, while you settle this. Come boy," Anders smiled softly and beckoned with his fingers to the dog, who replied with a happy bark.

* * *

Anders was sitting in bed with a book. Mira had spent over half an hour talking to Aveline and Isabella, but had not mentioned the conversation to him at all. He was a little angry with both of them. They knew that Mira had already spent a hard night. It might have slipped Isabella's mind, but Aveline had no such excuse as her guards had been in charge of cleaning up the aftermath of the Viscount and his son. Still, they had come running to Mira, begging for her favours left and right. They had never been eager to ask Mari for help unless it was absolutely necessary, but the past year had changed all of that. Now, Anders worried that Mira was stretching herself too thin, both in trying to redeem herself and honestly just wanting to help people as much as possible.

He tried to focus on his book, but from the next room he could hear sounds of splashing, and images of the warm water running down the pale skin of her curved frame sent his blood thundering through him. There were still boundaries between them and maybe there always would be, but this he could live with. More sound of splashing water, and he wondered that perhaps his last conclusion was a lie. He put the book down in his lap, closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

"Progress," he whispered.

Mira entered the room not long after, dressed only in her soft, light nightgown, her body still a little damp. She walked over and sat on the bed, drying her ebony veil with a towel. Anders found himself smiling without any real thought as to why, before crawling over the bed and placing a hand on her back, letting it wander carefully up and down.

"So, what did Isabella want?" he asked softly, smiling as Mira gave a pleasant sigh and leaned into his touch, for a moment forgetting all about the task of drying her hair.

"Isabella finally found that book of hers, and knows of a black market trade deal that is going to happen two nights from now. She asked me to help her," Mira replied, and as she opened her eyes, something passed in them that Anders didn't quite recognize.

Pain, guilt and worry darkened those eyes of hers, but he had no idea in relation to what. Then again, dealing with Isabella and her associates always seemed to bring unpleasant entanglements. Despite Isabella being a rogue, there was nothing discreet in all aspects of her person, in her manner of dress, her demeanour and her constant need to make a spectacle of herself. The complete opposite was the woman sitting in the bed with him...the one who was feared above almost anyone else and yet managed to hide in plain sight. Both fear and anonymity served to protect Mira from the Gallows, but since Mira had stopped handing over mages to the Gallows, Anders wondered how long it would last. The thought of fleeing with her and leaving it all behind often crossed his mind, but the need to consider the part of Justice, and part of his own heart, prevented him from acting on it. He could not leave and become heedless of so many who were still in templar chains. For centuries, apostates had fled and not one of them had fought for his fellow mages. "Or perhaps they did and they all ended up dead?" his mind quipped and Anders felt an uncomfortable surge in his stomach. He shook his head. This was not the time to think of revolutions, though leaping forth in the back of his mind were the words, "it's always time".

"And Aveline?" he asked, running his fingers up her spine, making her shiver slightly.

"She wants help retrieving elven fugitives from the Qunari," she answered with a wistful smile.

"Oh, that's going to go badly," he replied, his tone hushed with warning.

"It might, but the Arishok seems to respect me. I hope that it is enough," she sighed, and lay down on the bed.

Anders gave a sad smile, seeing her eyes close as soon as her head touched the pillow, and he lay alongside her, pulling her to him and covering them both with blankets.

* * *

As they entered the estate, Mira went directly into the study and sat down in front of the fire. She just sat there for minutes, not speaking and staring into the fire, while he stood in the doorway watching her. They had found Isabella's relic, which was in fact a revered Qunari book that was considered priceless among them. Mira had told Isabella that she would let her keep the tome in order to save her life, and that she would find a way to deal with the Qunari. This had surprised Anders a great deal, but Mira was willing to risk everything for those who had become her friends. People who had once followed her out of fear now did so out of admiration and loyalty which she returned with equal promise. Well, excepting that Isabella hadn't been loyal. Isabella had taken the relic and made a run for it, leaving the rest of them to deal not only with Qunari, but Tevinter mages as well. Anders didn't exactly blame her, but looking at Mira now, he felt a surge of pain go through him. He walked over to his love and kneeled next to her chair.

"You knew," he stated unspecifically, and stared into the fire as well.

"Yes," was the softly uttered reply.

"For how long?"

"I knew almost since I began reading Mari's diaries. Mari never trusted Isabella and knew that she couldn't control her in the ways she had found to manipulate the rest of you. It made her a risk. Soon after the expedition in the Deep Roads, Mari began looking into Isabella's relic, but without letting Isabella know that she did. Eventually Mari found out what it was, and threatened to expose her not only to Castillion, but to the Arishok as well. So for the past few years, Mari had been controlling Isabella with this information, making her follow her every whim and more..." Mira explained, her words dying as pain and remorse distressed her face while tears slowly fell from her eyes.

The relationship between Mari and Isabella flashed through Anders' mind. He had never given a second thought to its sexual nature, never thought that it may have been partly forced as well. Was that really the only thing that had mattered to Mari? She liked to command power over everyone and couldn't live with the threat that someone might not fear her. So she had gone out of her way to make Isabella her pawn as well. That was why Mira had agreed so readily to give the book to the pirate Queen. She felt bound by guilt and knew that she owed it to Isabella. Her sob drew him from his thoughts and he pulled her down from the chair and into his embrace, kissing her hair and holding her. It was all that he could do to comfort her, but he felt that it was never enough.

* * *

_Author's note: Hey guys. I'm so sorry I haven't updated as I used to, but I have so much going on in my personal life that it makes it hard for me. I'm going to keep updating the story, but how often or how long the chapters will be I can't promise. I hope you will still enjoy the story._

_Thanks again to Flint and Feather, for her support and guidance. And to ReploidAvenger and EezoHoney who keep my spirits high when I need it most :)_


	21. Chapter 21 Subjugation

**Subjugation**

The clinic was filled with people bearing injuries of all types and severity. In fact all of Darktown was filled with people as a hostile takeover raged above. Anders was weary even as he busily tended to the wounded. Earlier he had gone with Mira to meet Aveline before requesting the Arishok to give up the fugitive elves currently under his protection. Anders had a feeling something would go wrong from the moment Mira had mentioned the assignment to him. He was angry with Aveline for putting his Mira in such danger. Then again, Aveline had no one else to turn to and he had himself turned to Mira when he knew he shouldn't. In the back of his mind, Justice argued that Mira would have placed herself in that situation anyway – that she would do anything in order to protect them all. It was small comfort, but it did relieve him of some of his momentary guilt.

When they had reached the Qunari compound, Aveline insisted on bringing some of her guardsmen in place of Anders and Varric. Leaving that compound and seeing Mira go through those gates was the hardest thing he had ever done. Ever since Mari had become Mira, he had watched over her and accompanied her everywhere. Protected her fiercely and shielded her as best he could. His Mira, who had stayed faithful to her vow to Fenris and not killed a living person with her magic – if the Arishok attacked her, would she defend herself? Anders shuddered at the thought, not entirely sure he wanted to be reminded of the answer that revolted in back of his mind. And now the Qunari had begun an assault on Kirkwall and he had heard nothing of Mira. He found himself constantly looking towards the door, despite the patients surrounding him. At that moment he was half convinced that it was Justice taking care of the injured while Anders was merely focusing on every person coming through that door.

An hour had seemed like days before a familiar face appeared at the door, but not the one he had been hoping to see.

"Mage!" a determined voice called through the door.

Not the wisest thing to do considering Anders was an apostate, but at the moment it hardly mattered. Anders turned towards Fenris and looked at him, trying to decipher anything from the elf's expression, but in vain. Fenris looked as calm as he always did. Most of the time it seemed like he was either angry or didn't care about anything at all. Only Mira could manage to make a rare smile form on his lips – though this had also become rarer still after Fenris discovered that Mari had contacted Danarius. Anders had a feeling that there were still things unsaid between the two, but in many ways he preferred it so. Whatever Mira's feelings were, Anders knew - that at one point at least – the elf had cared for her. He would never presume to tell her who she could be friends with, but he most certainly didn't want her to be near someone who might love her and loathe him. And that stupid vow between Mira and Fenris that had almost seen her killed on more than one occasion was driving Anders mad. If Mira was up there dead it would be Fenris' fault, and Anders would shatter Fenris into a million pieces and send the remains to Danarius. Justice was roaring inside him as small traces of vengeance went through him. "Not now," he reminded himself and he kept calm. Anders walked towards Fenris, his patients suddenly invisible to him. This was why Justice thought Mira a distraction. When she was in peril Anders ignored even his own compassion.

"It looks like our friends from Par Vollen decided to expand their numbers. I was making my way to the docks to find Mira and Aveline, but going alone would be suicide," Fenris explained calmly, though Anders recognized the resentment the elf tried to hide. He after all, was turning to a mage and no doubt only because he was the one closest to his destination, with Isabella gone and Lowtown under Qunari control. Normally Anders would not have hesitated to come back with some snide remark, but at that moment even his resentment for the elf mattered little. So responding merely with a nod, Anders took his staff and they hurried through Darktown towards the docks. Hopefully Mira would still be there.

* * *

Debris lay everywhere, as the Qunari had not only attacked guardsmen and others who would oppose them, but even barrels and crates in their path were thrashed to pieces. The streets filled with the Sarabaas' fire, were thankfully emptied of all life. Most of the scattered corpses, Anders was relieved to find, were those of thugs and mercenaries. Only a very few seemed to be civilian. Yet he could not glimpse as much as a bit of black hair among them without his heart stopping in utter terror that it would be Mira's. Fenris' calm did not help Anders at all, as it frustrated him that the elf did not share his worry. Thankfully only a few more minutes passed before he saw a black veil of hair floating in the air as Mira twirled to slam her staff in the ground. She used her staff so rarely, but white arcane energy emerged from it and travelled along the ground, enrapturing a Qunari Sten, giving Aveline the opportunity to strike the killing blow. As the Sten fell to the ground, Mira turned and a relieved smile formed on her lips as she ran towards him. Anders ran towards her as well, and captured her in his arms, lifting her off the ground with a sigh of relief.

"Thank the Maker! I thought they had got you," he exclaimed, slightly tightening his hold on her.

"I feared for you too," Mira breathed as he put her down.

He claimed her lips in a brief but loving kiss, then looked at Aveline who approached them with a grim expression.

"Darktown is flooded with people trying to get away from all this," he continued with a sullen face as he surveyed the broken city.

"No time to waste, then. We have to stop the Arishok, before this goes any further," Mira replied with determination.

"We are heading for the keep to rally my guardsmen and find the best course of action," Aveline clarified.

Merely nodding, the four of them headed through the city currently at war with itself.

* * *

Anders had always known that the Qunari were trouble - a hard, unforgiving people who treated mages even worse than the chantry did. Everything they did was meant to uphold the Qun, a religion Anders was no closer to comprehending than the first day he had encountered it. Mira seemed to have a better understanding of it, which was why she had earned the Arishok's respect – not that it mattered, taking the current development into consideration. All over the city, they fought Qunari and desperate elves who had joined their ranks.

The houses on fire, the debris-filled streets - this seemed like more than just a takeover. Did the Qunari intend to annihilate Kirkwall completely? Purge it of its corruption by destroying everything in sight, not unlike the Chantry's exalted marches? At this moment however, that was not his only problem. Hauntings from his past and present seemed to be lurking around every corner. First the Qunari, then they encountered his former associate in the wardens, Stroud. Anders had kept his distance, and luckily Stroud was far too preoccupied with the current situation to pay attention to him.

Anders hadn't told Mira much about his past in the wardens. For one reason, there were many decisions he was ashamed of, among them how matters had turned out when he had merged with Justice. But there were also so many secrets, so many terrible things related to the costs of becoming a warden. In a way she deserved to know, but a warden was honour bound never to reveal these secrets. And in more ways, Anders would always be a warden. Not merely because of the taint in his blood, but due to his understanding for the necessity of keeping the order alive, to never endanger the future of recruiting. Not for the first time, Anders found himself torn between laws he did not agree with, and the whispers in his heart that were slowly becoming screams.

The screams did not become silent when they met the Knight-Commander as soon as they entered Hightown. The iron lady, with her stern cold eyes piercing him and his companions as effectively as if they had belonged to Mari. Within his chest his heart pounded in fear and rage, as his nostrils flared and his forceful breaths became fog in the chilly air. Around them, Hightown was as ruined as Lowtown, the streets oddly silent and lifeless. Only faint noises of shouts in Qunari echoed through the vacant city. His thoughts drifted to their servants – well, Mira's servants, technically – would they be all right? The sudden impact of Justice' booming in his head directed his attention to a threat much closer to his heart. The Knight-Commander's cold eyes were observing Mira, with an expression he could not read. Instinctively his hand reached for her and pulled Mira close to him, an action that did not evade Meredith. So long had he stayed hidden, but for Mira he did not fear exposure – not even before the Knight-Commander.

"I know you. The name 'Hawke' has shown up in my reports many times – too many," Meredith claimed, walking towards them.

"I'm glad we found you, Knight-Commander. The Qunari are…" Aveline began, but was interrupted.

"It's obvious what they are doing. They have gathered all the nobles at the keep," Meredith stated, turning away from them.

"Then we need to get to them quickly. Perhaps the Arishok can still be reasoned with," Mira prompted, but her tone suggested that even she had difficulty believing it.

Though the Knight-Commander tried to give them direction, Mira was already heading for the next group of Qunari terrorizing the city. Her determination was her strength, but Anders knew that the greater motivator was guilt. She believed that she was responsible for this and that somehow she could have prevented it. He was feeling frustrated that it seemed like no matter what she tried or where she turned, obstacles would form in her path, ready to place guilt and responsibility on her shoulders – his own situation with Justice, not among the insignificant ones.

Again and again, the thought Qunari, as well as brigands and looters, tried to take advantage of the chaos unfolding throughout the city. All the while, Mira's fire was burning with intense heat and brightness, blocking the path of their enemies, but never harming them. Staying true to her word that her magic would never kill, and Anders again and again cursed Fenris for making her keep that stupid vow. He kept his focus on her, shielding her from danger and healing even the smallest injuries immediately – and for a moment, neglected Fenris, who was nearly knocked out. Anders expected to hear endless nagging about that, but Fenris was watching Mira just as closely as Anders. Worry was reflected in the elf's expression - mirroring his own. Fenris shielded Mira from blows, even though Aveline was much more suited for the task. Here, in the most intense and largest battle they had ever faced, Anders worry for his love only grew. The Arishok would kill her if given the chance – but would Mira break her vow to protect herself? Would she break her vow to protect any of them? Most likely, but the real question was, would her conscience be able to cope? With each approaching enemy, Anders' being filled with fear, and his need to somehow shield her in more ways than one. Though as he watched her fight, it was perhaps hardly necessary. She threw enemies aside as if they were nothing but withered leaves caught in a storm, and made walls of fire. As the intensity of the glow turned almost white, the flash pained Anders' eyes and the heat burned his face. He was sure that the Qunari fared no better. If they survived the deadly blades of both Aveline and Fenris, the burns would leave scars that would never fade – not even with the proper healing.

Reaching the middle of Hightown, Anders looked at the mansion and noted with relief that the door hadn't been breached. Bodahn, Sandal and Orana were safe – and Maker have mercy on the one who faced one of Sandal's runes. The relief was short lived as the Qunari came charging with Sarabasses – their mage slaves – in tow. Inside, Justice cried at the injustice and the betrayal that they would attack a fellow kin, that some of them had willingly agreed to have their mouths sewn shut, accepted the collars and leashes binding their bodies and will. Propaganda - that not even the Chantry's abuses ascended to – focusing fear and hatred towards the mages – the victims – rather than at the demons which caused the many 'crimes'. Justice fell silent, as after the last Qunari had fallen, bodies of the mages – circle mages – were covering the ground. They died in an attempt to help a city that persecuted, feared, shunned and imprisoned them.

Mira was already on her knees before an unconscious elf, whom Anders recognized as being first enchanter Orsino – checking his injuries and vitals. She turned her head and gave Anders a pleading look, as her own healing abilities were not strong enough to help the man on the ground. Anders knelt beside her and healed the minor trauma to the elf's head. Within a minute he was conscious, and though beaten and sore – well. Barely on his feet, Orsino grieved over his fallen charges, but was not left to his mourning for long as the Knight-Commander approached. Justice' fire began burning anew, but feeling Mira's hand in his own, his lust for vengeance was calmed by his desire to protect. One emotion often feeding off the other, was calmed only in Mira's presence, whereas Mari would have enraged it further. Distracted by the attempt to calm Justice in the presence of his most hated enemy, Anders nearly missed the heated argument between Meredith and Orsino.

"We need to work together, not argue about who leads while the Qunari slaughter innocents," Mira pointed out in a tone not unlike a mother scolding her bickering children. For so long, and still, words of reason and compassion spoken in Mari's voice amazed him - from time to time still reminding him that the Queen of Horrors had turned into his Goddess of Miracles.

"Then perhaps you should lead us," Orsino suggested, with shamed demeanour.

"She is not even of this city!" Meredith bristled, clearly offended and no doubt unwilling to hand over such influence to a mage – an apostate no less.

"Neither am I, but I don't hear you objecting to either of us fighting to defend our home!" Orsino retorted, and Anders expected them to resume their infighting at any given moment – completely ignoring the threat to them all. Even Justice was offended by their lack of priority.

"As you wish. What do you suggest?" Meredith simply questioned, and looked to Mira.

"We need to get inside the keep, without taking needless risks to ourselves or to others. A distraction will be needed," Mira replied, with a nod to Aveline.

"I don't see any of my men," Aveline despaired, and Mira gave a short comforting stroke down the captain's arm.

"And you shall have one," Orsino smiled fondly at Mira as Aveline lead the way to the keep.

Anders did not miss the displeasure on the Knight-commander's face and despite it being unwise, he gave her a satisfied smirk as he passed. It quickly faded as he met Fenris' worried eyes for a moment, both of them knowing that inside, the Arishok would be waiting – expecting them.

* * *

Entering the keep had been more exciting than Anders would have hoped for, but he knew it was nothing compared to the challenges that lay ahead. Orsino and Meredith had distracted the troops outside, making it possible to fight through the keep. Mira's fire was burning intensely, even as she tore open the door to the throne room. Mari's fury was still strong within her and though it was usually tempered by Mira's compassion, at that moment she looked as deadly and threatening as ever. Months ago, this would have terrified them. They would have believed her reverted to her former self and already looking for the corpses to be piling up. The throne room full of nobles – and the Qunari watching them as if they carried disease – would have provided all the power that Mari craved. Half of them would have died to fuel her rituals and bloodmagic, as the rest would have been threatened into submission – another endless source of power. Mira was different, as she marked only the Arishok and faintly in her eyes was a shadow of pain and disappointment. The Arishok turned and as he threw the decapitated head of the viscount across the room, Mira's fire was set ablaze.

"Here is your Viscount!"

A nobleman stepped forward.

"How dare you?! You are starting a war!" the man objected without noticing the Qunari walking up behind him.

Looking at the Arishok, the Qunari twisted the nobleman's neck, killing him. Mira all but jumped forward, barely concealing her anger and definitely making no effort to hide her powers. Carefully, Anders placed a hand on her shoulder, stroked her lovingly with his thumb, and her fire retracted.

"Look at you. Like fat dathrasi you feed and feed and complain only when your meal is interrupted. You do not look up. You do not see that the grass is bare. All you leave in your wake is misery. You are blind. I will make you see!" the Arishok swore with angry determination.

He then turned to Mira and her companions as they stepped forward.

"But we have guests. Shanedan Hawke. I expected you. Basa lit an! Observe, Bassrah, this is what respect looks like," the Arishok bellowed with pride as he observed the little mage standing before him.

Mira took a deep breath as she slightly bowed her head in respect to the Arishok, to acknowledge the honour the Arishok showed her.

"We can still find a peaceful solution," Mira suggested calmly, her fury well hidden beneath her honest desire to prevent bloodshed.

"Perhaps. What do you suggest, Hawke? Without the tome of Cosland I am denied Par Vollen. How would you suggest this conflict be solved without it?" the Arishok enquired as he looked down on the small mage before him.

"I believe I can answer that," a voice said behind him as the doors were flung open.

They all turned around to see Isabella come through the door with the tome of Cosland – the Qunari relic she had stolen, and the absence of which was the cause of this hostile takeover. Isabella walked up next to Mira with a big smile on her face and handed the book to the Arishok.

"It's mostly undamaged," Isabella advised as he accepted the book, and then turned to Mira.

"It took me awhile to get back with the fighting everywhere," Isabella explained with a pleased expression.

"I thought you were gone for good," Mira replied, unable to hide her astonishment.

"This is your damned influence, Hawke. I was halfway to Ostwick before I knew I had to turn around," Isabella sighed, and Anders couldn't help but feel that the pirate was proud of herself for returning.

The Arishok carefully let his hand caress the book.

"We are now free to return to Par Vollen – with the thief," the Arishok declared, looking at Isabella.

"What?!" Isabella, Mira and Anders exclaimed in unison.

"Oh, no. If anyone kicks her ass, it's me," Aveline interjected.

"What? You thought you could just strand them here for three years and not face any consequences?" Fenris scoffed at Isabella.

"You have your book, Arishok. Let Isabella stay here and face the justice of our laws," Mira tried diplomatically.

"You know we do not suffer thieves, Hawke," he stated in response, the matter clearly not up for debate.

"There has to be another way," Mira implored, but not surrendering the authority she was trying to uphold. Weakness of any kind would not win her any favours with the Arishok.

"Very well. We can duel, with her as the price," the Arishok suggested.

"No! If you want to duel anyone, then duel me!" Isabella insisted with obvious concern for her friend.

"Very well, I'll duel you," Mira replied without hesitation, and Anders felt his heart stop.

Mira's pale complexion turned white, but beyond that she showed nothing of the fear and doubt inside her. Justice was raging at Isabella for having put their love in such a position, and at Fenris for making her take on the vow that would likely get her killed. Anders was fearful as he pulled Mira to him and away from the Arishok, who had turned to choose his weapon.

"Don't do this, love. I'm begging you. Revoke the duel and we can all defend you," Anders pleaded, his heart pounding with dread.

"She can't, mage. She has to do this," Fenris said calmly.

Anders glared at the elf, his fist tightening to a height of pain. The anger did not stop as Fenris walked up next to him and regarded Mira. Aveline put a hand on Mira's shoulder.

"You have to protect yourself. It's the right thing to do," Aveline offered, as if her approval would make it acceptable for Mira to kill.

"You should protect yourself…. by any means necessary," Fenris affirmed seriously as his and Mira's eyes met.

A long silence passed and the doubtful questioning in Mira's eyes was dispelled with a nod, letting Anders feel a small relief. If Mira would allow herself to defend against the Arishok, then maybe she would be all right, though Anders had no doubt that she would take the man's life only as a last resort. The Arishok turned and swung his chosen blade through the air as if testing it, and Anders felt a chill run down his spine. That sword was nearly the size of his love, and the mere thought of what it could do to her made him nauseous and gave him a faint taste of blood in his mouth. As if in a last attempt to prevent her from duelling the Arishok, Anders pulled her to him, almost pushing Aveline and Fenris away in the process. His lips crashed down on hers, heedless that from now on, all the nobles would be aware of their attachment. But what would it matter? Even if Mira survived this, there was no way they could stay in Kirkwall. No matter what her financial position might be, the Knight-Commander would never tolerate two apostates living together among the nobles. Mira's fortune and current position would never be enough to keep them both safe. There was only one alternative…. to run. Justice would have cried for the weakness of leaving behind their fellow mages, but at this moment the fear of losing Mira was greater… more present. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she deepened the kiss, caring as little about the audience as he. She pulled away slightly and his lips instantly felt cold from the absence of hers, but as their eyes met, his attention stayed riveted on her.

"You won't lose me," she promised, sealing it with another kiss.

Anders would have refused to let her go, but Justice' influence forced him. The spirit knew that her duelling the Arishok would be the only way to bring the victims justice. So as Mira distanced herself from him, his heart grew more and more still and as she stood in the middle of the room, his heart was quiet and his breathing halted. Mira met the Arishok's gaze, and as he lifted his weapon, Anders was still unsure if Mira intended to do everything she could to win. He knew she was powerful - more so than Mari if she chose to be – but would she let herself give in to her power and do what was necessary in order to protect herself? Anders had not realised he had moved, until he felt a spiked metal glove on one arm and a gauntlet with a softer hold on the other.

"We can't interfere, Anders," Aveline reminded him gently.

He was momentarily distracted by a protest from Isabella, and saw that Fenris was holding her back as well. Everything in Isabella's demeanour objected to the fact that Hawke was the one taking the risk. Isabella wanted to be in her place. His attention went back to the fight as he heard the Arishok give a war cry. The gigantic humanoid charged towards the mage, his resolve calm, but it did nothing to hide his immense power and determination. Anders felt lightheaded, his ability to breathe momentarily lost. Anders made his eyes close and his head turn away as the Arishok reached her and knocked her backwards into the wall. He forced himself to look again and saw the hesitation in her eyes. The Arishok shook his head as Mira lay on the floor.

"I expected better of you, Basa Lit An," the Arishok said calmly with disappointment.

As Mira got up, her eyes fell on the decapitated head of the Viscount. Pain and regret clouded her eyes at first, but as she lifted her gaze, she looked first at Isabella and then at Anders. As their eyes met, he knew his own expression was filled with worry and fear, but he could do nothing to hide it. Mira smiled suddenly at him, as if meaning to reassure him. The smile faded as fury and determination – even more fierce than the Arishok's – began burning in her eyes. Flames surrounded her hands once more as she got to her feet, the red flame turning white and blinding everyone in the room. A sizzling sound filled the space, and as it built into an explosion, Anders felt pressure on his entire body and had to recoil from the heat. The Arishok uttered something between a cry and a growl, as Anders heard an impact against a hard surface. The light faded and everyone turned to see the Arishok on his knees, leaning against a wall and two meters above him, the stone construction had cracked and crumbled. Mira's hands were still on fire, but not uncontrolled as it had been before. She wore a serene expression as she prowled back and forth, waiting for the Arishok's next attack, while looking at him in a way that could only convey, "Don't make me kill you." Her meaning not lost on the Arishok, he became furious, and with his composure unhinged, he charged at her once again. The audience closed their eyes, expecting the sound of a mighty impact, the woman screaming in pain and a terrifying image to match. Instead they heard a shattering sound as a massive barrier of ice appeared in front of the great leader, who only too late realised it's presence. Lurching head first into the immense block of ice, he fell to the ground and Mira had every opportunity to kill him. But as he had shown her respect and seen no honour in taking the life of one who was defenceless, she allowed him the same courtesy. She did not waste time however, creating as much distance between them as possible. She hid by blending into the shadow of a column, but Anders knew she could not hide for long. When he regained himself, the Arishok stalked between the pillars, knowing all too well that she would hide behind one. As he approached, Mira sent out a telekinetic burst, confusing her opponent for a moment.

"You can still leave," she implored as she sent a burst of electricity through him, but nothing that would truly harm him.

Anders shuddered. She must have known that the Arishok would never relent and that he would never back down now. This conflict could only end with one of them dying, the Arishok would not accept surrender. Anders stared at his beloved and found himself praying to the Maker that another miracle would come from the goddess of his life. The Arishok was ready to engage again and Anders suffered with despair. If Mira did not find the strength to see justice in the leader's death, to separate that hers were nothing like the actions of Mari, then she would die.

"DON'T!" she cried in alarm.

The Arishok merely responded with a snort and charged towards her. Anders felt three pair of hands holding him back, as his glow began while Mira cried in agony. Blood flooded from a wound to her side, possibly fatal, inflicted by the Arishok's heavy sword.

"Let me go!" Anders and Justice demanded in unison, but strong hands restrained them.

A bright light filled the room, and struck by an overpowering pulse, the Arishok was sent flying through the air. The sound of his spine cracking as he hit the stairs echoed through the room. Mira approached the Arishok and pulled out her dagger. She gave him a respectful bow before kneeling in front of him. Gently she placed her hand behind the Arishok's neck as he lay there in great pain. Anders saw a little healing magic emanate from her, just enough to dull the pain. In Qunari, she spoke before quickly taking his life with the dagger.

"You die with honour and by the will of the Qun," Fenris translated, and was then first to release his hold on Anders, who was at Mira's side in less than a second.

"Where does it hurt, love?" he asked with great concern as he began healing her, not caring if anyone saw.

"I didn't break my promise. My magic didn't kill him," she whispered, hiding her pain beneath a soft smile.

Anders couldn't help but smile and pulled her to him with a bruising kiss, all the while letting his magic sink into her as he held her sides.

* * *

The two lovers were laughing as they went through the door. After the incident at the keep, they had gone straight to the mansion to see if the servants were safe. They were, but the same could not be said for three large Qunari whom Sandal had managed to blow to pieces. Though Anders had wanted Mira to rest because of her wounds, Varric, the Knight-Commander and the Grand Cleric desired the company of their new champion that night. Mira Hawke was now the legendary Champion of Kirkwall, a protector of all. How different she was from the person who had made the whole city tremble in fear by the mere whisper of her name. People already assumed that all the terrifying stories Varric had told about her had been nothing but fiction to ensure young Hawke's privacy, and those who knew better were confused and if possible, even more cautious around her now – not knowing if she was friend or foe. After Mira had been introduced to the Grand Cleric as the Champion of the city, Varric dragged her and Anders to the Hanged Man and it was now almost morning.

"Ssssshhhhhh!" Anders hissed with a smile as his love almost knocked over one of the ornaments in the entry hall, which only made young woman laugh.

When she almost did it again, Anders lifted her into his arms and began carrying her towards the bedroom with Mira practically giggling in his embrace the entire way. Anders loved seeing her so carefree and wished that she would always feel this way. He felt his heart stirring slightly at the faint whisper in the back of his mind, _"She probably wishes the same for you."_ Finally in the bedroom, he set her down on the bed and went to the desk in the corner to remove his clothing. He smiled when he removed his coat and felt Mira's arms wrap around his waist and her head resting on his back. He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed it before turning in her arms and claiming her lips in a soft kiss. When she deepened the kiss, he welcomed it and responded tenderly. He felt her hands caressing his back and he hummed against her lips with the pleasure of it. It was so rare for her to touch him without any hesitation, so he was happily surprised when her hands went under his shirt and continued stroking him. A sigh escaped him as her hands moved from his back to his chest and he attempted to conceal his delight when she began tugging at his shirt to get it over his head. The recollection of the last time she had behaved like this tormented his mind and he studied her, questioning in his mind what she had to drink, how much, and if Isabella had in any way been near it. But besides the sweet taste of white wine on her lips, there was no sign of intoxication. On the other hand, her lips smiled sweetly while her eyes were sultry with a faint hint of desire – so faint in fact, he couldn't be sure it wasn't just his imagination. With the shirt gone, her hands and lips began exploring his chest, her nails and tongue teasing his skin, while he did nothing but let his hands stroke up and down her sides and inwardly, silently, begged her not to stop. She took a step back and began to open her corset and remove her tunic, all the while looking sweetly and coyly at him. Anders swallowed as the clothing fell to the ground and his breath hitched when she began to loosen her trousers as well.

"Maker…" he uttered softly when his love stood completely uncovered before him.

Mira giggled and beckoned him with a finger and a playful smile on her face. In that instant all his hesitation was forgotten and her fears seemed to never have existed. He smirked and ran towards her as Mira bounced onto the bed with a small squeal. He jumped after her and nearly tackled her as his lips met hers in a bruising kiss. So much pain and suffering had befallen them both, that this now could be something joyous and carefree was more than he could have hoped for. In the depths of his mind, Justice pondered what had provoked this change in her, but Anders would not dwell on it now – he could not. He moaned softly against her lips, then moved down to taste the skin on her neck, and he shuddered as her hands undid the laces of his trousers. When he reached her collarbone, she gave a small gasp and her hands stilled. The sound was sweeter than anything he had ever heard. So long he had ached for her – so long he had been haunted by nightmares of how he would be with Mari, but this was heavenly. No sounds of pain now, or memories that haunted her – only soft sounds of pleasure filled the room, creating their own magic to erase everything terrible that had ever been. He felt her hands on his chest pushing him to sit up and he suddenly feared that she had changed her mind. His worries were swiftly quelled when he saw the depth of desire in her eyes. Those eyes that had once been cold and unforgiving, were now warm and loving. Her fingers grabbed his trousers by the waistline and carefully pushed them off him. All the while, a shy smile played on her lips as she uncovered him, not fully daring to look. She closed her eyes with a nervous giggle before she leaned to his lips. Giving in to the sweet sensation of her lips pressed against his, he was entranced to feel her hand softly stroking his inner thigh before embracing his growing desire for her. Sensing her uncertainty, he explored her body with care, unable to stop himself from breathing small moans as his hands felt the softness of her breasts and curves. As kisses and caresses intensified, he feared she was becoming more unsure, so with patient affection he pulled away and leaned his forehead on hers.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently.

"Yes. We deserve this. We deserve to be happy," she answered, and he could hear the soft smile in her voice.

The endearment of 'we' filled his heart. They had each kept their true desires and all they wished for at a distance for so long, both because they had convinced themselves that they were undeserving, but in each other's eyes, nothing could be further from the truth. In her eyes he was not a monster, but a healer and a protector of his people. In his eyes she was not the vicious killer she had once been, but a kind and generous woman who was a protector of all. In his eyes she had become the symbol of everything good that mages had to offer to the world. In her eyes he had become the embodiment of everything mages should be. They were both sinner and saint – part demon and part something celestial and pure. Complex beings of right and wrong - of mercy and vengeance. The Queen of Horrors, who had become the Goddess of Miracles, together with the Abomination, who was capable of great mercy and compassion. Their world would always be a whirlpool of both light and dark – some hidden in their past and others a future that could not be avoided, as the choices that created them had already been made. But despite the darkness, they did deserve reward for the light they brought with them. So they had become each other's reward and punishment. A bittersweet love that would last a lifetime, no matter how short it might be.

"I love you," he whispered, looking into her eyes with soft affection.

"I love you, too," she replied tenderly, the playfulness momentarily set aside as emotions far stronger emerged.

Anders leaned back to rest on his knees and gently invited Mira into his arms. She straddled his legs and as their bodies became one, he embraced her tightly and kissed her deeply. Panting breaths, gasps and moans softly echoed along the walls of the room, as they finally reached the absolution from all they had suffered. Everything would somehow be right as long as they had each other, and not past, present nor future would taint this between them. Death and tragedy would inevitably become part of their destinies, but never with the cruelty and malice that had once filled their lives.

* * *

_Author's note: Sorry for the long time between updates, life has been busy for me. This is going to be the last chapter in a while since I'm going to work on my own book. I have more in store for this story though and I hope to return to it soon. Thanks for all the support, it has meant a great deal to me._

_Thanks to Flint and Feather for all her support and guidance._


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